With these words I shall perish us
by aavikkohiekka
Summary: "Shut your mouth, Winchester", Castiel hissed, one, clenched fist rising in the air, fingers placing against each other and all Dean could do was to wait for Cas to snap those fingers. Castiel had never called him Winchester straight to his face.
1. Broken bond

**OKAAAY so what should I say? First Cas/Dean fic in english. Yes. Hmm, well. Happens couple of weeks after 6.22. Castiel goes to meet Dean Winchester one last time and things go only to worse.**

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><p>After things had exploded in hands in that musty, dark workshop, Castiel had sent Dean and Bobby away, Sam as well, though he would have delightedly smited them all for abandoning him when he most needed them.<p>

But no, he had sent them away. It was for him. It would have been wise to make sure that the Winchester's and the old drunk would never get to him again and try to prevent him for being new overlord of Heaven, earth and Hell, but still he just let them go.

To tell the truth, Castiel was little lost at first. He wasn't sure at all, what to do or what he was supposed to do. No one had ever explained what it ment to be a God, almighty himself. Thought of asking help from Dean passed by, but he let it be. First thing was to return Heaven and then hunt down Crowley. Then, he'd make humankind pray for him. Pray for forgiveness.

Seemed like there was no humanish though in Castiel's mind anymore. He was more like a empty shell, overwhelmed with power the millions of souls had brought and given to him.

After sending hunters away, he had left, leaving the bloody remains of Raphael on the walls, for someone else to clean up. If anyone would ever pass that building again.

Castiel travelled long, flying upon his kingdom. _His _kingdom. Castiel felt proudful. He had won, war was over. Old God was long gone, and now there was him, more justiceful. Better.

At last Castiel had settled down for a while in the small village somewhere middlewest, keeping his humanform, without even thinking, how painful it had to be to Jimmy Novak to hold God within him. Or maybe Castiel just didn't care. Former angel had turned pretty much stonecold.

But of course anyone would tell it had been expected. What else could have happened, after anyone Castiel had build trust in had suddenly abandoned him and allied behind his back? Castiel decided not to put anymore thoughts on Winchester or Balthazar or any other. There was just him, from now on.

For days Castiel staid among those people, even when he knew that Winchesters were probably looking for him. Castiel kept himself invisible, just watching. Spite crossed his mind more than once: He had begin to thought humans more like filthy, unpleasant animals.

Villagefolks with tendencies for fanaticism in religious matters.

Castiel walk'd among them, and in the 8th days morning he finally left. Before returning in Heaven he wanted to do one last thing, which he had forbidden for himself until then. He wanted to visit Dean Winchester one last time.

Watching upon heavily breathing, but still lightsleeped man. Hunter always slept with one eye open, ears registrating every single sound coming from nearby, hand ready to grap knife or whatsoever awaiting attacker under sleeping man's pillow. Still Castiel somehow presumed, that this one didn't have knife under his head. Bottle of good ol' Whiskey would have been better guess.

Former angel watched hunters sleep, keeping good distance. Feelings of anger, rage and even sadness from the abandonement crossed Castiel's vessels' beating heart. Castiel clenched his wrists, feeling blood running away from his fingers as skin tightened on his knuckles and made them turn white. It felt cold in his stomach.

"Dean Winchester", he whispered, breaking the silence of the night where you could only hear breathing and various sounds coming from old woodhouse squeking in the wind. Talking felt weird, after being silent for all those days.

There Dean still slept, same place where he had slept, when Cas had last time visited him during the night. On the knotty, worn out chouch, which still seemed to give hunter best sleeps ever.

Which probably ment that man never did slept too good.

Castiel took step or two, to have a closer look.

It was rare, that Dean hadn't already woken up. Usually, when Castiel came around, Dean's eyes opened within seconds. Now… Hunter didn't even flinch. Castiel's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head like he used to.

He watched upon sleeping man, the through from messy hair to his frowned forehead and the bridge of his nose, which was covered with small freckles. Freckles circulated their way to his cheeks. There were also couple of faint freckles in man's lips. Lips were full and little parted, as they let slow breaths move between them. Hands were crossed across his chest, like he was protecting himself from something or someone. Castiel felt sudden urge to either smite the man… Or just touch him.

Dean had meant lot to him. Dean was the one whom he had fallen for, who he had rebelled for. And all for this? It seemed almost vulgar to him how his choices, his wrong choices, how Dean had labelled them, had made all his trusted ones abandon and betray him. Where was the trust when he had needed it the most? Or Dean only, when he had needed him? Winchester brothers had abandoned him and even turned one of his brothers against him. But in the end, Dean was the one who had told him that he was no longer part of the family if he continued his actions.

Muscles in Castiel's jaw tightened and he clenched his fists again.

"I'll never… Come back when you call me. Not again", he said silently, trying to make sure that he didn't wake Dean up. Or anyone else possibly sleeping in the house. He tried to keep calm, tried… To keep his mind lucid. Somehow he felt that things wouldn't go as he had planned - Winchesters wouldn't never bow to him.

"I'll smite you, Dean Winchester. And this time I won't be pulling you back from where I'm about to send you." Low voice raised little, just a little, but that was enough. Sleeping man's eyes opened slightly and hands opened from tight grip around his torso. When Dean saw someone standing in the shadows, hand downright darted itself under the pillow. Castiel soon noticed, that he had been wrong about the bottle. But it wasn't a knife, either. He faced off with the barrel of a gun. Colt.

"What the Hell-", Dean started, trying to make his eyes adjust to dark light of the night. Castiel didn't feel need to hide, so he stepped on the ray of moonlight coming out from the wide windows behind the couch. Window was covered with seals drawn with blood. But of course they didn't work in him anymore.

"Cas?" Dean's voice seemed to broke a little. Irritation and preparedness in his voice melted away, to frightened tone, which reminded Castiel from a little child. Dean Winchester was absolutely horrified by him.

Castiel raised his jaw a little, looking arrogant.

"Hello, Dean", he said. He had said exactly the same thing many times before, but now the voice was hollowed and Dean couldn't recognize nerdy i-don't-understand-that-reference angel from it. That angel was long gone.

"Cas… What… What are you doing here, man? I thought you'd be in Heaven doing you God stuff", Dean said in cocky, but still oh so horrified voice. Castiel noticed that he was almost pleased by the fear he had awoken in that man. Castiel measured Dean with his face. Colt had been lowered, but Dean held onto it still, against his tight, ready to blow.

"That", Castiel said, nodding towards old, still shiny gun that didn't hold too many bullets to waste "won't work on me anymore, Dean. You of all people should know that." Dean scrunched his browns as he took fast look on the gun.

"I know that, I just…" he started, puckering his lips out like he always did when he got nervous. Eyes wandered on Castiel's feet, looking those pointy, brown leather shoes. Seemed that Dean hadn't guts to look him in the eye. Dean laid the gun on the couch, looking at it longingly for a while and placed his hands back on his tights, picking his dark gray, long-sleeved shirt's sleeves, like it was that he wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands, exactly.

"Cas, look, I'm…" Dean started, shameful, still looking somewhere between their feet.

"Quiet down. Now", Castiel said fast, before Dean couldn't even finish his sentence. He didn't need this. Not anymore. Dean finally raised his look onto his face. The look he gave to Castiel was so full of panic and sorry, that Castiel almost let it sleep. He could just walk away. Look on Dean's face was just heartbreaking.

"Cas, please…"

"Shut your mouth, Winchester", Castiel hissed, one, clenched fist rising in the air, fingers placing against each other and all Dean could do was to wait for Cas to snap those fingers. Castiel had never called him Winchester straight to his face. Never before. Dean didn't say anything, didn't beg, didn't say sorry no more. His whole body was tense and his heart bounded against his ribs as it was about to blow. Like it was supposed to. Within a second, Dean knew, his body would be nothing but blood and guts on Bobby's windowsills.

But the snap never came. Castiel just stood there, fingers 3 fingers against each other, 2 bended on his palm so hard that it could have hurt if he only felt pain and stared down at him. Former angels lips were pinched so hard together, that their pink color had faded to almost white. His muscles clinched and most blueish eyes ever glared at him furiously. Angels eyes turned darker as moment passed by.

"C-Cas. Snap out of it man…" Dean said, voice whimpering. Man eyes glimmered - Castiel knew he was about to start crying. Face was similar to one that hunter had shown in the workshop not less than 2 weeks ago.

"Why did you came here?" Dean repeated his earlier question, wiping sleep out of his eyes, trying to make some sense out of their new 'God'.

"I'm here to destroy thee, whom refuse to bow and profess your love to me", saying exactly same things he had said before. At last Dean gathered enough strength and stood up.

"Oh come ON, Cas! This", he said, placing his hand onto ex-angel's chest, where Jimmy Novak's heart was. Trench coat was as clean as ever, so was his suit. Only tie was worn upside down. Castiel looked slowly down his body, like he loathed Dean touching him.

"This isn't you", Dean continued, voice breaking down even more with each word he spoke. He closed his hand to a fist, rasping some of man's white blouses fabric in it, refusing to let go. He let his head fall, trying to cover the first tears bursting on the corner of his eyes.

"Let go of me you filthy animal." Castiel's anger rose once again, and he grasped Dean's wrist, ripping the hand off of him. Dean winced - the grasp hurt.

"Let go of my wrist", he said slowly, trying to pull his hand off.

"Why didn't you just listen to me. Even once. I did all for you, I always came when you called… When I asked you to help me…" Castiel spoke out. Dean's lips parted. He hadn't expected this.

"Cas, look, you went to the dark side. You're not SUPPOSED to work with a fucking demon! Not especially with CROWLEY." Without even noticing Dean only made things worse.

"Your brother worked with a demon, you forgave him. Bobby worked with a demon, you didn't even question it. Even YOU worked with one, Dean. So how come you can't understand my actions?" Castiel's fingertips pushed their way in Dean's wrist.

Dean looked confused - Castiel was right. Kind of.

"Cas, you're an angel, you're not supposed to…"

"Were", Castiel corrected.

"WERE an angel if it wasn't only that, you LIED to me. You lied. And how hard it could be to just ask for help? I would have helped you, you know. I would have." One, single tear escaped from the green eyes.

Castiel knew, that Dean would have helped him. It was just that his own pride had gotten in the way. He just only hoped, that Dean would have understood, what and why he had done it all.

"Bitch", Dean whimpered, when he suddenly slapped his free hand on his face and his shoulders began to shook. Castiel didn't feel sympathy for this man. He was almighty, he didn't need such feelings. Or so he believed.

"You're like my brother, Cas, you fucking son of a bitch. You don't let your family down like that", Dean cried, not anymore struggling to release his hand from Castiel's hold.

"I hope this ever had come to pass. I hope I never raised you", Castiel said suddenly, letting go. There was reddish imprint on the wrist where he had hold Dean from. He placed his hand suddenly on Dean's shoulder, where older hand imprint still was. Dean looked at the shoulder from behind his hand, wiping tears away, confused about what Castiel was doing.

"I hope that too", he said, sounding angry all of the sudden, trying to move away from the hand.

"Promise has been broken. Profound bond no longer exists between us." As Castiel had said this, Dean felt first cold, then suddenly burning sensation on his shoulder. He screamed out and gripped from Castiel's coat's sleeve, trying to pull hand off. Castiel looked blankly at his hand, which glowed in red and white. Pain on the shoulder only got worse, and Dean fell on his knees.

Finally Castiel pulled off, taking few steps back. He had heard sounds coming from upstairs. He had probably woken Sam and Bobby. For a while he stared at the staircase, then back at Dean, who had curled up on the floor, holding his shoulder to make the pain go away, and shaking. Eyes were halfway closed, and jaws were tightly pressed together.

When Sam and Bobby ran downstairs, Castiel was already gone, with the silent sound of feathers moving against each other. Dean laid on the floor, still holding his arm like a maniac.


	2. Screaming out

Sam approached his brother quickly.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, kneeling next to his almost unconscious big brother.

"What the hell happened here?" Bobby asked, looking for traces of demons or so. There, of course, wasn't none. Sam placed his large hand on Dean's arm, trying to make him let go.

"Dean, let go. Dean! Stop it", he said, but Dean refused. He shook his head weakly, then, at last, straightening his legs he sat up.

"I'm fine", he said in hoarse voice, not even looking up on Sam.

"You don't seem quite right, look at you, you're all pale and sweaty and… You're burning up", Sam said, as he touched Dean's forehead. Dean pulled his head away, looking pissed off.

"I said I'm fine", he repeated, irritated, and tried to get on his legs, failing horribly. Right when he straightened, his legs gave up on his weight and he fell back to the ground.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, trying to catch him. Bobby flinched, but he either wasn't fast enough. Dean fell back on the cold wooden floor, shoulder burning, while his whole other body turned cold.

Sam carried Dean upstairs, holding him under his armpit, trying not to touch his shoulder at all. Little brother laid Dean on the bed where he had just arisen from and looked at him with eyes filled with concern.

"What up with him?" he asked from Bobby when old man came on the room with whiskey bottle and wet towels. Bobby shrug his shoulders.

"No clue. That idjit has himself in so much trouble that I really don't know anymore." Sam looked back on Dean. He had turned even more pale, that he was almost white. Underlays of his eyes were ill kind of red. Sam sat on the side of the bed, taking one towel from Bobby and placing it on Dean's forehead.

"He's burning hot", he said silently to Bobby. He decided to take a look what had caused so much pain to Dean that he had fainted.

"Help me out, Bobby", he said. Without a word, Bobby bent over Dean and raised him on sitting position, so Sam could work his shirt up.

"Oh SHIT", he sighed right away when he got Dean out of the cloth. Where the handshaped imprint lefy by Castiel had once been, was widespread, nasty burn. Bobby's eyes widened too. Looked like skin on Dean's shoulder and half way through to his arm and chest had been brushed up. Sam put his hand over his mouth.

"What the... Bobby?"

"I sure don't know", old man replied, looking as much confused as him. Dean hankered little as he breathed. And breathing didn't look too easy, either.

"Looks pretty bad... But I'm sure that Dean doens't want to go hospital for this. We'll have to do all we can here and... Wish for the best", Sam said, looking at Bobby with serious eyes, eyebrows low and mouth not smiling at all. They just had to wait until Dean would wake up so he could tell them what had happened.

Usually when Dean dreamt, he dreamt about hell. Sometimes he had dreams about his mother or father, but usually they circled around Hell. Now he dreamt about Castiel. Dream didn't make any sense, it consisted of fast flashes and memories. Dean felt terrified, like something was crushing his heart. He wanted to scream, but it was like flames invaded his mouth, down his throat to lungs and next thing was he noticed he was coughing blood.

In the outside Dean looked almost deadcalm, if you didn't take in account that harrowing face he was making. While Bobby was downstairs doing recearch, Sam kept wiping his older brother's sweaty forehead with wet, cool towels and kept calling his name, hoping, that Dean would hear and wake up. What really concerned him was the fact, that burnwound in Dean's shoulder seemed to be spreading. How it was possible, Sam didn't understand.

"Dean, wake up", Sam murmured, pressing the towel on Dean's forehead again, and again. Dean just didn't wake up. No matter how Sam pleaded.

Next day of unconsciousness came fever. Hot, burning fever, which made Dean sweat up and shake in feeling of cold. Sam hadn't slept last night, not after he had found his big brother lying on the floor. He still wasn't aware, that the one who had done this to Dean was Castiel. Signs of former angel showing up were minimal, even minusculing.

"Bobby I think we should really get him to hospital", Sam said, voice sickened with worry. Bobby stood behind him, looking grumpier than ever.

"You may be right. He's burning up", Bobby said,sighing and crossing his arms. Dean moved little on the bed and took sharper breath. Both men were silenced by this sudden movement.

"Dean?" Sam gasped as he turned towards his brother, placing his own hand on man's hand. Dean had slightly opened his eyes and looked at him.

"Don't you fucking dare to take me anywhere", he croaked. That was Dean - his cheekyness didn't vanish, not even when he was nearly dead. Man looked like death itself had touched him, but still he refused to get hospitalized. Sam sighed in relief. Dean had woken up. In pretty bad condition he still was, but he had woken up.

"But I think we should really..."

"No, Sammy." Dean's voice was weak, but determined.

"Dean, what the heck happened to ya? We had to bandage you up 'cause of... That!" Bobby stepped closer, pointing at Dean's shoulder, which really was covered by tight bands. Dean turned his head slightly to look at his arm.

"I can't feel my arm properly..." he mumbled silently, trying to move his fingers.

"What do you mean you can't feel it?" Sam asked, sounding almost irritated. Dean gave small laugh.

"Yeah... I pissed him off, really." Dean kept staring at his fingers, trying to cover, that he really was in pretty much of pain, and almost panicking. Sam gave his famous bitchface, that's how confused he was.

"Dean? What happened?" Sam was demanding for answers, but Dean just looked away, keeping silent. Even in his state he knew, that if he told Sam about Castiel, it would only blow his top off and he would go find Cas and that wouldn't end good for Sam. So it was better keeping his mouth shut. He'd get himself back in condition and then go after Cas himself.

Days passed by, and Dean wasn't getting any better, Sam was turning desperate and Bobby had lost all his faith. Whenever Sam left Dean alone, Dean called for Castiel, pleading him to come to him. Almost praying. Begging. He didn't understand, how many times he should say that he was sorry, really was, before Castiel would hear him out.

Or maybe he'd never will. Man, who he had once called his best friend, was now all puffed up with sould of Purgatory, so full of himself and his 'Godness'.

Days felt like they wormed by. Dean kept staring at his hand, trying to make his fingers move. He felt the burnwound which was result of Castiel's final grap on him eat up his flesh under the bandages, spreading wider every hour, minute, second. He grinded his teeth, but didn't say a word, not to his little brother nor Bobby. Maybe, cause he didn't want to worry them. Or maybe he just didn't really know what his condition was.

On the night of the fifth day Dean had enough. He pushed himself up from the bed, taking a sharp gasp as the pain kicked in again. Fever, which had lowered few degrees with painkillers made him feel dizzy, and his whole back was felt moist from sweating.

"Agh, Cas you did hell of a good job with making me feel fucking awfull, if that's what you planned", he mumbled to himself, giving a small grin. Finally he got off from bed, holding his numb arm gently against himself. Pain radiated to his whole body, but he didn't let things like that stop him. Not now.

He slowly walked across the room to pick up the t-shirt that was lying on the floor. It was Sam's, but was good enough for now. Again, grinning at pain, he pulled it over his head and somehow managed to get his bandaged hand through the short sleeves. Shirt smelled of Sam and was too big. He also picked Sam's grey hoodie and tossed it on his shoulders. Now, fully dressed, he staggered out of the room, trying to keep quiet, not to wake anyone up.

For sick man it didn't take much of a time or act to have himself out of the breath. Getting downstairs, he leaned to strangely wallpapered wall, holding his arms against his chest and panting.

"Fuck this... Cas I'm so going to... Scale you when I once get to you..." he muttered. He heard movement upstairs, and it was time to get on move again. He didn't want Sam to get there to stop him. He picked up the Impala's keys on the counter and headed out, freezing for a second when the outdoor creaked.

Sam woke up when Impala boomed running in the frontyard.

"Shit!" he yelled, stroming up from the bed . He grapped t-shirt from the floor, and with only that and boxers on he ran downstairs, and right out of the door just to see tail lights disappearing into the night.

"Dean!" he shouted, but it was too late. Brother had left God-knows-where.

"Sorry Sammy", Dean mumbled behind the wheel, looking at his brothers upset figure standing in the gloomy light coming from the inside of the house, before pressing on the gas and driving off from Singer property. He held the wheel with one hand, so hard, that his knuckles were all white. Pain in his hand was almost unbearable, but it was the one thing that kept him going, along with the pills and whiskey he had nicked from kitchen's cabins.

He drove at least 50 miles, shaking his head and taking almost handfull of painkillers and gulps of the whiskey to stay conscious. Then, he suddenly pulled off the road, parking between two old oaks, turning the car off, grapping whiskey along and stepping out of the car. He glanzed around, and staggering the near field.

"Castiel!" he shouted with gruff voice, facing the sky. Couple of stars had come out already.

"Castiel, you fucker, come here when I call you!" Dean walked in circles, scretching his other arm in the sky. Fever got hold of him again, and he fell on his knees, hard, didn't take in at all.

"Aw, fuck!" he shouted and fell on his side, breathing in breezy nightair and the smell of wet grass.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Dean hit his healthy wrist in the ground, closing his eyes as tears of frustration pushed their way in.

"Cas, please..." Mixture of stress, fever, pain and overdose of painkillers made him fell unconscious. Again.

Maybe Dean couldn't see him, or even sense him, but Cas was there. He stood couple of feets away from the raging man, watching him, studying him. He had always thought that Dean Winchester sure was a curious one. He had no respect at all on him, not even now. Dean included him in his 'family' and called him 'brother'.

That Castiel didn't understood. He felt so high above, that he was in no man's family. It was him, and they were all just sheeps for him to slaughter. He tilted his head little, as Dean fell on his knees, and right away down on his face, not even flinching to help him.

Dean was in pain, and he was desperate, and Castiel enjoyed seeing his old friend in that state. All of them would see, what happened, when one turned his back on him. Balthazar had had it, as well Raphael, and Dean Winchester would be next one. And he would suffer before he would.


	3. Worse than Hell

"Dean!" Subdued, distant voice could be heard somewhere. Dean aspirated and squished his eyes shut tight. He felt like he was going to throw up at any second.

"Dean, snap out of it!" Voice was bit more clear and loud now. Dean cracked open his other eye, but everything was dark and blurry. Someone was touching him, touching his shoulder and someone, whose hand felt different, was touching his forehead.

"His fever has gone up again", that someone else said. Dean tries to say something, but it came out as mumbling wheeze.

"Don't try to talk." Dean blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to make that annoying, blurry effect disappear.

"What a freaking GREAT idea to take off like that", someone cursed, removing his hand from his forehead at last. Understanding started snapping back at Dean's mind.

"Sam?" he croaked, trying to look at the man who he assumed to be his brother. Large hands on his shoulder moved little, turning him on his back. Dean grimaced. His body was all sore.

"I'm here, I'm here", Sam tried to solace him, but failing as he sounded so irritated, frightened and simply mad.

"How'd you…"

"We turned on the GPS on your phone, you idjit", said other voice. Words used to mock him revealed him to be Bobby. Of course. GPS. Dean had forgotten all about that.

He tried to sit up, as his back and ass felt all wet from lying in the grass, but Sam pressed him as gently as possible back down.

"Stay down", he said silently.

"You drank almost all of my best whiskey, you stupid brat", Bobby cursed. Old man felt hideous urge to slap Dean for being such an idiot, but he tried to calm himself down, for Dean's and Sam's sake.

"No wonder I feel like I'm dying", Dean mumbled from the ground. Aching and burning sensation in his hand had came back as fast as he had woken up again.

"Maybe we should…" Sam said somewhere above of him, looking at Bobby.

"Take him to hospital, yeah. There he'd maybe not try to run off." As Dean heard these words, he tried to push himself up again. Even his healthy arm was shaking so badly that it was almost impossible.

"I ain't going", he stated quickly, leaning now on his knees, holding his palm to cover his eyes. Even the slightest bit of light hurt his eyes like hell. Sam took fast gasp, as he was trying to complain.

"I ain't going, Sammy. I have things to do." Breath escaped from baby brother's lips, as he seemed to be giving up.

"Dean…" Bobby's voice was filled with annoyed pleading.

"No, Bobby. Let me take care of myself." Dean sounded still weak, but he was hundred precent determined of what he was going to do next. His whole body shook by fever and lying in the hard ground in awkward position, but he just didn't want to give up. Not now. He needed to find Cas.

Suddenly Dean's whole body twitched.

"Oh fuck", he mumbled repressed, threw his arm in the ground and gagged loudly.

"He's going to throw up!" Sam grunted, placing his hand on Dean's other shoulder, and tugging his shirt against his skin so it wouldn't get messy.

"I'm not going to…" Dean growled in shallowed voice, looking at Sam over his shoulder, eyes wetted, underside of those green eyes burning red, as the rest of his face was pale as ever. Then he pressed his palm on his mouth again, gagging so badly that it made his whole body twitch again.

"There goes my whiskey…" Bobby mumbled, as he stood up, to let boys do their things.

"Oh, shit", Dean cursed again, twitching even harder.

"Just let it come", Sam said silently, stroking his back, kneeling next to him.

"Fuck you, Sam", Dean grunted, gagging right after saying it, pressing palm harder against his mouth.

"Dean", Sam said demandingly, gripping his brother's wrist and pulling the hand off from his brother's face.

Dean gagged, bending forward. Eyes were tearing up already, first salty drops fell on his cheeks. Puke just didn't seem to come, and his whole throat seemed to be on fire.

"Ghah…" He ripped his hand off from Sam's hold, sliding fast two of his fingers all the way to his throat.

"Dean!" Sam reached his hand to pull Dean's hand off, but Bobby was the one to rein him.

"No, boy. Let him." Sam looked at the man, looking little shocked. Dean pushed fingers forward, gagging, and he felt the vomit climbing up his throat and his own teeth scraping the skin on his fingers, and the ring on his middle finger clacking against them.

When the puke came, it wasn't carrots and fish n' chips like it usually was. It was only water, whiskey, something he couldn't describe, mixed up with blood. Vomit fell on the ground, blood glimmering in the moonlight. He heard Sam gasping next to him, and Bobby's breath jam. There was bloody vomit on his hand, too, and he stared at it almost enthralled.

"What's wrong with him?" Sammy shouted his distressed question to Bobby. Bobby just stared, not knowing what to say. Dean fell out of strength and swayed against Sam, panting, gripping his burning shoulder on tight hold, not caring if Sammy's shirt he was wearing got soiled in blood.

As Dean lied on the backseat of the Impala, with Sam's hoodie as his blanket, he listened his brother's breath. Sam had taken the Impala, as Bobby drove back with his El Camino which he and Sam had arrived to get him. Dean stared eyes blank at his brother's shoulders and back of his head. Their position revealed to Dean, that Sam was really upset, and he couldn't really blame him.

Sam's cellphone rang, and he struggled little to get it out of his jeans pocket.

"Yeah?" His voice was silent. Maybe he thought that Dean was asleep.

"Yeah, he's fine. Bobby…" Dean understood they were talking about him. His brows lowered couple of millimeters, not enough to be seen, but as much that he felt it himself.

"What should we do? No, he'd kill us." Dean bit his lip. His mouth tasted like garbage. Whiskey, vomit, blood.

"Maybe you're right. Yeah. …Yeah. Okay. See you then." And that's where the call ended. Sam stuffed his phone back to his pocket, and twitched, which was sign to Dean that he was going to turn. Older Winchester squeezed his eyes fast, pretending to be asleep.

Sam glared quickly to his big brother, who seemed to sleep under his biggish hoodie. His jaws tightened little and he sighed. Things were hard already, but seeing his brother in that state made him feel even worse. Like it was his fault.

Castiel sat on the front seat of Impala, next to Sam, staring at boys. He had again hidden himself. He felt angry, that Sam had arrived to pick up Dean. He'd liked if Dean had just… Died there on the field and that he could've just made sure that the place where Winchester would go wouldn't be Heaven nor Hell. It should have been something worse.

He watched as Sam turned to look at his brother, with sadness in his eyes. Castiel lowered his eyebrows and his lips pressed harder together. How, after all the brothers had been through, had still this kind of bond? He couldn't understand. And why he still lingered around them? He should have been in Heaven, taking care of the business, solving the complications Raphael's death had caused. Maybe he felt the need to still watch over them, in good or a bad. Which in this case, was the last one.

He noticed he was on the edge, to reveal himself to Sam or not. The thing, that he knew that Dean was awake made things harder. He sighed silently and bended himself to touch Dean Winchester on the forehead. Man seemed to startle a little, but then fell in deep sleep. He saw how Sam smiled slightly, as Dean started breathing heavier. He sat back on his place, looking at Sam. Should he…?

Sam twitched and almost yelled, as he felt something suddenly touching his cheek. It was soft and warm like… Feathers? He took the control of the car fast back and glared around. Nothing.

"Oh shit, I must be…" he sighed, and even laughed a little to himself.

"Hello, Sam."

"AAAAH FUCK", Sam screamed out, and car tossed a little on on the other line. He stopped, when car had almost taken 180* turn. Castiel sat next to him, staring out the window, not looking slightest bit startled by the almost-accident. Bobby kept going, not noticing, that they had left behind.

"Oh my God, Cas!" Sam hissed, holding his chest with his palm, like trying to calm himself down from not getting a heart attack.

"Exactly", Castiel replied, smiling slightly.

"What the… What are you…?" Sam couldn't make out not even one clear sentence.

"I decided to stop by to see how you're doing." Sam's frightened bitchface wouldn't just wore off. Last time they saw, he had stabbed Castiel in the back and had just got tossed through the room against the wall. Like it was nothing.

"Castiel I'm…" Sam was in need to explain, to get rid of Cas as fast as possible. It was like there was ominous aura floating around Castiel. Like former angel would explode him to pieces in every second possible.

"I see Dean's not doing quite right", Castiel said slowly, glaring over his shoulder to sleeping older Winchester.

"Yeah, he's… sick", Sam replied, even when Castiel didn't seem to want a reply. He still held his hands on wheel, to prevent them from shaking.

"What's up with you, Castiel? It's not… You anymore."

"Stop that, younger Winchester or I shall smite you too." Castiel's eyes darkened, as he turned to face Sam. There was no trace of smile, forgiveness or mercy on God's face.

"W… You mean that… YOU did this to Dean?" Sam didn't seem to care anymore, how threatening Castiel was. He just raised his voice, as his anger rose with it.

"Yes." Castiel's answer turned out to be short, and simple. He didn't try to avoid the subject at all. Sam breathed fast and heavy now, he was clearly escalated. His cellphone started ringing on his pocket again, he supposed it was Bobby, but he didn't answer.

"You get him back in condition, right, now", Sam said lowly, eyes narrowing as he stared at Castiel. Castiel found it almost amusing.

"I have to say no."

"But…"

"No, Sam. I want to see him all burned up, pained, forsaken. And you, demon-child, you will be next." With these words, Castiel was gone, feathers brushing Sam's face gently, still leaving cold feeling inside of him.


	4. It's your forgiveness I seek

"WHY he didn't just tell me it was all Castiel's doing?" Sam was walking circles in Bobby's livingroom, hands stuffed into his pockets. At the times he pulled hands out, just to cross them on his chest. Hell, wasn't he mad. Bobby sat behind his desk again, staring blankly at books he had open on it.

"That idiot of a brother", Sam kept cursing.

"Sam, calm down."

"How can I CALM, DOWN, when my brother's upstairs apparently dying?"

Dean lied on that same freaking bed where he had just hours before escaped, staring at the ceiling. Ceiling was made from dark wood, and it had signs of watertorts here and there. Dean counted branch holes, one by one. He felt bored.

And dying.

Arm was burning up even more badly now, and the pain reached now all the way to his fingertips and chest. Breathing was hard, but he tried to cover it up, as much as he could. Not only for Sam, but to himself too. Maybe he was afraid, how he was feeling.

About hour ago he had started couching. When he had lifted his hand from his face, it had been soaked in blood. He had just wiped his hand on the side of his jeans, hoping, that no one would notice.

"Cas... Please. I'm sorry, man. So sorry... I don't wanna die", he muttered, now looking out of the window. Only trees creacked behind it, as the sun had already came up.

Dean didn't want to die. Not again. He couldn't leave Sam alone. He didn't want anyone to sell his soul for him. He didn't want to get rid of his own. So what could he ever do?

"We need to find Castiel and make him reverse all this", Sam said, leaning on Bobby's desk know.

"That's suicidal, Sam! And how the heck we would find GOD?" Sam could hear from Bobby's voice that he disliked his idea more than much.

"That might be our only choice, you know. Dean's not going to hold on much longer like that, I know it. And..." Sam explained, screcthing his shirt's collar little.

"We'll find him, I'm sure", he said, pulling out brass necklace.

"Isn't that..."

"Yeah it's Dean's." Sam looked at the necklace he was holding up, feeling small sting in his heart. Dean had threw the amulet away ages ago, but he had picked it up from the garbage and kept it, like, just in case. Or maybe it was just emotional thing.

"With this, we'll find Castiel. I mean, Castiel once searched for God himself with this. We'll make him cure Dean." Sam seemed to be sure about the plan, but Bobby was doubting strongly.

"Kid... How you gonna prevail Castiel, the new 'God' to do something for us?" Sam's jaws clenched, and he looked at Bobby again.

"I'll figure that one out later. I'll just call him up here." Sam dropped the amulet back under his shirt, placing his hand over it, as if he was protecting it like their last hope.

Dean startled awake from his halfdream as he heard someone knocking on the door. When he didn't answer, door opened and Sam sticked his head inside.

"You okay?" Sam tried to keep his tone happy and lively, but some kind of blue infarction could be found. Dean gave his little brother a tired smile, not moving slightest bit on the bed.

"I'm fine, Sammy. I just need to take good naps and I'll be up and kicking again", he said slowly, giving him a thumbup with his right hand. Pain had passed for a while due the painkillers he had took just minutes before Sammy had come. Left hand was still numb, expect the burning feeling on his shoulder which time by time radiated all the way to fingertips.

"Like you always do", Sam said, smiling little and sat on the side of Dean's bed. It bended down a little under his weight.

"What's up, Sammy? Is your master plan to tie me up to prevent me from running off again?" Dean sounded sarcastic, and saddness blinked in his eyes, though face kept smiling.

"Do I need to?" Sam smiled back at him, laying his hand on his brother's thigh. Dean broke a laugh, and silenced.

"Why didn't you tell me it was Castiel?" Sam started his interrigation, as careful as he just could. It was enough for Dean, who turned his head away, like he was glanzing out of the window.

"What even happened?"

"Sam..."

"I need to know so I can help." Sam was determined about what he was doing. Dean's right hand clenched into a fist.

"Fuck, Sam... You don't need to..." Dean sounded irritated.

"Cas just popped up, pissed off as hell, placed his hand on my shoulder and... You know the rest", he said finally, sighing. He still wasn't looking at Sam.

"Pissed off by what?" Right away Dean laughed again.

"BY WHAT? Do you really have to ask? We fucking betrayed him. We turned our back to him. It's our fault he turned that way, right?" In some state, Sam didn't agree. Castiel had made his own choice. But he didn't know it all.

"Me and Bobby are going to find him", Sam blurted, without even thinking about it. Dean turned to face him, eyes wide and brows narrowing.

"Sam, no."

"But it's the only way to... To..." Sam pulled his hand off from Dean's leg.

"We'll do it anyway", he finally said, standing up. Dean pushed himself up, putting weight on his injured arm and grapped Sam's wrist with his fingers.

He grimaced in pain, but stared at his brother with burning eyes.

"Sam, listen, NO. No means no, baby brother."

"You're hurt. You better lay down", Sam said, secretly turning down Dean's commands. Pain grew too bad, and Dean had to give up and slumped back onto bed, couching silently. He pressed his hand against his mouth and watched as Sammy left the room. When he removed his hand from his mouth, it was covered with blood splatters. Now even more than the last time.

"Oh shit..." he murmured, wiping his hand on his jeans, on the same spot where last blood splatters had already dried.

Sam looked even grumpier when he returned downstairs.

"You boys got onto a fight?" Bobby read from his face. Sam looked at him with slightest bit of bitchface on expression.

"Thought so", old drunk said, facing the book again. Sam slogged his way in the room, sitting on the chair facing Bobby's desk.

"You got anything?" he asked, not even bothering to start about the subject. Bobby raised his brows, releasing a long sigh.

"Oh, well. Here's a lot of stuff about summoning demons and things like that but not GOD." Bobby sounded unfaithful about what they were doing. Sam sighed and eked out his shirt's collar, just to pull out the amulet with his other hand.

"Then I guess... We just have to give it a shot." Sam took off the necklace from himself, putting it down on the table. It clicked quietly as it touched the surface of cold, dark wood. He pressed his hand on it, closing his eyes.

"Castiel... If you hear us, please, come", Sam pleaded out in a silent whisper. Bobby stared at him, eyes narrowing.

"You need to save Dean. Save my brother. Please." When he stopped, he opened his other eye, to look around. It was just him, and Bobby. Still just him and Bobby. Sam buried his face in his head, taking shaky, long breath. All for nothing.

Castiel was there. He stood in the end of Dean Winchester's bed, staring at him. Dean was in light sleep again, taking same kind of shaky breaths as his little brother downstairs. His whole body shook. Man had to be in lot of pain, even worse than he had admitted he was in. Castiel knew.

He walked to the side of the bed, tilting his head with narrowed, blue eyes. His shoes clanked against the hackneyed wooden floor and his trenchcoat swished as it touched Dean's bedsheets. He sat down, weighing lot less than Sam had weighed when he had sat down on exact same spot. He placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, almost not even touching.

"Awkward", he murmured, jaws clenching again. Dean sighed in his sleep, as shaking stopped. Castiel felt so strange about this man, now. As he looked at him, he hated him more second by second. But still... Even, when bond was broken, it still felt so profound. Castiel took deep breath.

"I wish I could smite you well, Dean Winchester." Dean moved, and Castiel's whole body tensed up.

"Uh..." Dean opened his eyes, turned to face the man sitting on his bedside.

"What the..." His voice was so raw, so pained.

"Castiel", he mumbled, looking at former angel, then his hand on his shoulder. For his suprise, he noticed it wasn't hurting at the moment.

"What..." Dean was so confused. What Castiel did here?

"Your younger brother called for me. To save you, as he put it", Castiel said slowly, glaring at his own hand, too. Dean frowned his brows, tried to push himself up, even a bit, but his whole body seemed to be insesitive. And somehow, blissful. Blessed blissful.

"I'm confused, Dean Winchester. I'm God. I'm not supposed to follow orders. I'm not supposed to save anyone." With full of souls of Purgatory, new God was born. And he was needed to be pleased, to be worshipped. Still, he sat there, on the bedside of man, whom had betrayed him, even realieving his pain.

"You did what Judas did to Jesus long, long time ago, Dean. But Judas was forgiven. What should I even do. I don't understand, after all this."

"Cas..." Dean grapped his hand which still lingered on his shoulder, and held it tight.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." It was no use, you could see it in Castiel's eyes.

"It's too late for apologizes, Dean, and you know it well, don't you?" Dean looked like he was about to break into tears, once again.

"You're like brother to me. Even more", he said, gripping the hand tighter, not allowing for Cas to pull it away. For what reason, he didn't know. Maybe he thought that the pain would come back. Or maybe he didn't just want Castiel to leave. Castiel puckered his brows on his behalf.

"I'm God. And you're just a man." Castiel saw how little muscles on Dean's face twitched when man held down his feelings. How his fingers jerked against Castiel's hand revealed much.

"And how am I ever supposed to forgive you, when you didn't forgive me?"

"Tch..." Dean let go of Castiel's hand, looking away a while. Castiel pulled his hand away and Dean grinned when the pain kicked in, just like he had expected.

"I'm leaving."

"Don't go!" Almost panicking shout escaped Dean's lips, when former angel stood up, ready to teleport himself away again. He dashed up from the bed, hand gripping tightly on Castiel's trenchcoat's collar, pulling him on the bed. The same hand wrapped tightly against ex-angel, whom had fallen onto him, causing great pain to him. Castiel placed his hands against Dean's sweat moistened chest, ready to pull himself off, which caused Dean to only grip him tighter.

"I'm sorry. You hear me, asshole. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Castiel wondered, did Dean do this for him, or only to save his own sorry ass.

"Let go of me..."

"How many times I have to say it before you hear it? I'm sorry, Cas." He let the ex-angel pull away a little, so he could face him straight, eye to eye. His hand squished the collar in fist, not letting him go.

"Dean, I warn you..." Maybe it was a quick deviation of his mind, but when Dean suddenly pulled from the collar and pushed himself up a little more, it was all over. When he pushed his eczemased lips on Castiel's lips, it was all done, ruined. His hand let go off the collar, pushing it's way on Castiel's hair... He closed his eyes and enjoyed the ecstasy like feeling that floated into his body through their mouths. It was just something that he was never ever supposed to do. With no men. But Castiel... He was no man. Dean opened his mouth fractionally, letting his tongue touch Castiel's lips.

Former angel never kissed back.


	5. Is it fine for me to be this insecure

Castiel stayed still, stiff, staring at Dean's face. Dean gripped his hair tight, pulling him closer and kissing him. Man moaned quietly, his pained hand just hanging against his body. Dean laid back down, pulling Castiel with him. He took fast breath, ready to kiss again -...

"How dare you?" Castiel's voice was ice cold, as he pressed his hands harder against Dean's chest. He stared at Dean's eyes with his own, sky blue eyes. Dean breathed towards his lips, taking in all the blissfulness floating through Castiel's hands in him. It was the souls that caused that, Dean thought.

"I'm sorry", Dean repeated his words with his broken voice, hand grasping more hair in hold.

"I just... Need you, again." He pulled Castiel closer, and scretched his neck to kiss him again.

"Oh God", he moaned against the full lips of an God. Castiel was still not moving, just stared Dean, trying to understand his actions.

"If you want... Me to profess my love to you..." Dean whispered, and kissed him again, cracking his lips open and letting his tongue come out again, to touch Castiel's teeth between his parted lips. Dean wrapped his other, jeans covered leg around Castiel's hips, pulling him towards his body, needing to feel it all - he felt like drunk sucking up healing energy from the angel.

"Stop it, Dean." Castiel pulled his head away from Dean, who breathed quick and unsteady now.

"Stop it." His fingers scraped Dean's bare chest, and suddenly man under him coughed and blood splattered on his chin. His eyes widened, as he watched how Castiel did something to him. Something not good.

"Cas, what..." He pulled his hand from Castiel's hair and pressed it on his mouth as he coughed again, feeling warm blood mixed up with saliva on his palm. He tried to pull himself up, to spit the blood off from his mouth, but Castiel didn't allow him to. Blood was already gushing between Dean's fingers and streaming in wide, dark, thick scapes. Green eyes watered up as he couldn't breath well. Castiel straightened his back, sitting astrided on Dean's lap now.

"Choke. Choke on your own pride, your betrayal which I can taste from your lips."  
>"Cas", Dean cried out from behind his hand, but ended up coughing even more, when breath made blood invade his lungs. Castiel's hand twitched on his chest and pain rushed through his body. Dean screamed, his whole body jerking off from the bed as it tried to adjust in pain. Man grapped Castiel's wrist tight, trying to pull the hand off from him. He heard rushed steps on staircase - he recognized them as Sam's. Castiel's head bended towards the door, and with couple simple words he locked up the door.<p>

"Cas...! Cas, let me say something", Dean cried, first drops of agonized tears rolling on his face from the corner of his most beautiful eyes.

"Dean!" Sam had reached the door, and banged it with his fists. Castiel looked at the door, wanting to be sure that it would hold.

"Cas... Aagh!" Dean's body jerked again, and he hit his head against the pillow. His nails had sunk deep in Castiel's meat, but former angel didn't seem to care.

"You feel it, Dean? You feel it? This is how it felt inside, when you betrayed me", Castiel hissed as he rose his other hand and as humanly as he could, he punched his fist on Dean's cheek.

"When you... Turned your back on me." Another punch.

"When you turned my BROTHER against me...!" Castiel was in rage. His eyes were flaming by now, and his wings could have been seen on the shadows dancing in the walls. Sam was still screaming outside the door, thumping the doorhandle, struggling to open the door.

Castiel wrapped his fingers around the loosen bandages on Dean's shoulder.

"Cas, don't..." Dean whimpered, blood still gushing from his mouth, hand reaching towards his face. Castiel looked at Dean, and then with fast yank he ripped the bandages off. They teared off from Dean's burned, wounded skin and left man gasping from air. Castiel threw bandages on the floor and immediately pressed his hand on Dean's bare shoulder, not caring about his skin which had rubbed off all the way to his dermis.

"Oh fuck!" Dean screamed out when Castiel's cold but soft hands touched his wound. Castiel pressed his fingers tight.

"This, Dean. Hasn't this taught you ANYTHING?" Dean stared at him with wet eyes, lowered eyebrows, blood all over his upperbody, rest of the body all limp. Castiel loosened his grip on his shoulder, as other hand slided from his chest to his head, clenching tuft of his short hair in his fist.

"I wanna kill you, Dean", he started speaking with confident in his voice, but when he called out other's name, voice broke. He put down his head to hide his face from hunter.

"Do it", he heard him whisper through curling sound he was making. Castiel hoisted his head to lay his sad eyes on Dean's. Dean gulped, new streams of blood pouring from his mouth.

"C'mon... Kill me if it's the only way to make everything up", he uttered with most melancholic tone in his voice. His hand grapped weakly the collar of his coat.

"I regret nothing." Man even smiled a bit. His teeth were soaked in blood, which made the smile look like horrid grin. Castiel noticed he was panting. He was never getting so overwrought by anything or anyone, which was a fact that made him even more upset now.

"But promise, Cas. Tell Sammy I said hi." Castiel's brows lowered even more, if possible. He pulled Dean's hair lightly.

"You sad, sad travesty of human being", Castiel whispered, voice shaky all of the sudden. Dean closed his eyes.

"I don't mean to spoke in clichés, but I feel kind of cold." He grinned and lifted his hand, just to place it on Castiel's hand on his shoulder. Back where it belong, he thought.

"Dean! Dean, open the door!" Room was silent, counting out Sam's terrified screams. Dean had opened his eyes and stared at Cas, smiling slightly. Castiel just stared back, bending above him.

"Close your eyes, Dean", Castiel said after time that felt like eternity. It didn't need much for Dean to obey - he had been on the edge of fainting for minutes already. And why did he obey? Maybe because he didn't seem to have any other choice. He felt Castiel put more weight on him, soft brush oh his hair on his forehead, warm breath on his face.

"Cas, what are you..."

"Shut up, Dean", Castiel commanded right away, tugging his hair gently.

This time it was Cas who kissed him. He tasted blood on Dean's lips, and he could felt it staining his face as kiss deepened. Dean lifted his hand again, to place it on Castiel's side. At the exact moment he did it, Castiel stopped and slapped the hand away.

"Don't touch me you filthy animal", he whispered against Dean's mouth, before pressing the lips back together. Dean felt some kind of strange energy floating back in him again.

But never did Dean Winchester dare to open his eyes, for he feared what would happen if he did.


	6. Cause I'm afraid to be alone

Oh how Dean wanted now to lift his arms and wrap them around Cas. He felt like it was something he should have done ages ago. But he forced himself to keep his hands on his own side, on the bed. Castiel's fingers stroked his hair now, gently, and time by times tugging it. Dean moanes silently against former angel's mouth, scretching his neck to have even more. It was like Sam's sounds faded away, and all he heard was his own fast breath and Castiel's steady, slow breathing on his face.

And his own, silent sobbing.

Eyes stinged from uncried tears. Castiel, unlike him, hadn't closed his eyes, and glared over his face, as he hiccuped and weeped silently, eyes squeezed shut. Warm, tingly feeling spreaded from Castiel's hand on his shoulder, all the way to his other body and small electric shocks flickered between their lips. It was something Dean hadn't felt never before.

Castiel pulled his head away a little, looking at Dean's face, trying to read the frowny look he was giving. Dean pulled his hand up quickly and pressed it on his eyes.

"Don't look at me", he crooned, jaws cleching and lower lip shaking.

"Are you crying, Dean? Why?" Castiel didn't understand, once again. His fingers ran through Dean's hair again, while right hand tightened it's grip on the shoulder.

It didn't hurt, which suprised Dean.

"I'm the worst", Dean muttered, sounding really upset, as he turned his head away. Castiel lowered his brows.

"Yes", he replied, tugging Dean by the hair and pulling him back to kiss.

"Wha...t are you doing", hunter breathed out against the lips. Castiel didn't answer, just cracked open his lips, letting his tongue touch Dean's slightly. Dean just couldn't control himself, but pulled up his arms and grapped Castiel's messy hair... Hands? Dean blinked his eyes open. His numb hand actually moved! He pulled his head little away from Castiel.

"What..." He stared his fingers like something he hadn't seen before.

"Oh God..." he mumbled.

"Dean..."

"Cas... Why?" Dean was so confused, as he placed his hands on back of Castiel's neck.

"Don't touch me", Castiel replied right away.

"I have my own reasons", he continued, narrowing his eyes and looking now away from Dean's face. He straightened his back, letting go of his hair, keeping his hand on Dean's shoulder for a while. Dean blinked his eyes rapidly, tears running on the cheeks. He couldn't control them anymore.

"Cas..." he mumbled, other hand scraped Castiel's white dress shirt's fabric on hold. Castiel pulled his other hand away, as well, and Dean pushed himself up fast.

"Goodbye, Dean", said Castiel, face falling out of expression, as he climped off from Dean, and was gone right away, feathers whishing silently in the air, before Dean could even say anything.

Dean almost flew up from the bed.

"Cas? Castiel! Don't you fucking leave like that!" he shouted, and without even thinking hit his hand to wipe off the lamp from the nighttable.

"Castiel! Come back! Come back when I call you!" he screamed, raging around the room. Something had clicked inside of him. Tears ran down his cheeks uncontrollable, and he didn't even bother to wipe them away.

Door was kicked in and Sam stormed in.

"Dean!" he shouted right away, running to his brother and gripping him on tight hold by his shoulders. Dean tried to rip himself off, screaming and sobbing.

"Dean! Dean, calm down", Sam said, trying to calm his mad-gone brother. Dean did stop struggling, did stop screaming, and fell slump on his brother's arms, weeping heartbreakingly.

"What is is? What's wrong, Dean? What happened? What's with the blood?" Dean almost choked under his brother's question flow.

Dean fell on his knees and Sam followed.

"Dean?"

"Shut up, Sam", Dean grinned feeble, his hands taking hold of Sam's wide shoulders, head hanging between his arms.  
>"I'm fine", he mumbled, before grimaced and hided his face behind his other palm. Cleanish trails that formed on his cheeks revealed much. Sam lowered his brows, worried sick and throat aching from shouting, and pulled his brother close in a tight brother-to-brother hug.<p>

"It's okay, Dean. It's okay." Sam's eyes still constantly kept trailing his brother's skin and movements, to see if he was hurt. Blood was everywhere, but mainly man looked to be just fine. Fine, alive and kicking. Literally.

"Dean, your shoulder..." Sam breathed as he laid his eyes on Dean's wounded shoulder. Dean stopped his weeping for a second and turned to look - eyes widening.

Skin was smooth as baby's butt. No sign of burning scars which had kept him awake, not sign of almost healed handprint, either. He was just... Fine. Scarless. Completely.

"What the..." he mumbled. He lifted his arm to brush the skin, before his lips started shaking.

"Bond is broken", he muttered, before standing up, not caring a less of Sam's detering.

"Dean...?"

"It really is gone. Broken. Vanished."

And in his words, there was small infraction of sadness.


	7. Drunk and looking for a fight

"So Castiel just popped up and healed your sorry ass?" Bobby's voice almost dripped unbelief. Dean walked circles on livingroom, puffing to himself, arms tight crossed on his chest.

"That's what I just said", he sniveled, not even looking to old drunk. Bobby raised his eyebrows and Sam tilted his head.

"So... What exactly he did?" Sam was probably referring to all the blood he had found Dean soaked in, but totally different things sailed through Dean's anxious mind. He gave an irrelevant laugh, and threw his head - sure he wasn't going to tell the whole truth.

"He just... Raged a while and then put his hand on my shoulder", he muttered, now focusing on the knocking sound that his combat boots made as he wandered off from the Persian looking carpet to the wooden floor.

"And then he left." Dean puckered his lips a little, looking like a little child, whom had just saw his father abandon him. Or something like that.

"Well. Everything went better than expected", Bobby said finally, standing up. Dean glanzed at him. Maybe it was irritation in his eyes? He felt like things had been left where they were, broken and shattered on the floor. And seemed like he was the only one who cared. He was still hell of a mad to Castiel, but still so sorry. Though had crossed his mind - maybe he should have stood up with Cas, instead of turning him away.

But what had been done, had been done, and Dean just had to accept that.

"Fine. Fine..." he muttered, unfolding his hands and placing them on his hips.

"So what the hell are we supposed to do now? Hunt Crowley down?" he asked, shaking his head lightly. Sam breathed deep and glanzed to Bobby who looked suddenly irritated - he had his own bone to pick with the 'King of Hell'.

"Yeah. Sounds good. And let's hope we don't piss Castiel off anymore", Dean said, before leaving the room.

Dean's voice was hoarse, his throat ached like Hell. His limbs were numb from walking around and his breath steamed in the chill night air.

"Cas! Cas!" he croaked, as he slumped around the car pits on Bobby's backyard, middle of all those wreckages, only that one light on the wall of a storage building lighting up the night. He lifted his hands up, and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Castiel! Come here", he pleaded, and halted down. It was no use. Castiel would never hear him.

"Oh fuck this." Dean took another sip of the whiskey bottle Bobby had given him. Given, yes. Maybe the man just wanted him to get better soon. And alcohol had always been a medicine, right?

"C'mon, Cas, please, tell me, what should I do?" He had finally given up walking and kneeled down, hearing his kneecaps crack as he did.

"...You fine, Dean?" Sam's voice was silent, and it startled Dean. Sam had sneaked behind him without him even noticing - his skills seemed to be rusted.

"You scared me, little brother", Dean said, as Sam helped him up by the hand. World seemed to be swaying back and forth lightly, and that's when he knew he had had enough to drink for this night.

"We're gonna start tracking Crowley down tommorow, right?" he asked, avoiding the big question. Sam bit his lip.

"Yeah. I think I'll start research tonight. It ain't gonna be easy finding him", Sam replied.

"Guess you're right."


	8. Change of plans

Sam knew damn well that there was something wrong with Dean, even now. Maybe it wasn't psychical anymore, no, but there was just something... Off. They did research, and it went as well as it probably could, to question that it was Crowley they were after, and they drank, they talk, they slept. But it wasn't Dean. Not anymore. Sam recognized pieces of the past-hell-Dean in him. He was as dead inside he had been back then. Sam worried.

He worried much, but of course he didn't let Dean know that.

When the big brother went to bed, he disgussed about him with Bobby, still coming to one and same conclusion; time would heal him. Maybe. Hopefully. Some nights Sam sneaked out of the house, when he thought nobody would notice... And when he did, he strutted for hours and hours in the backyard, silently staring at the sky, not saying a word. He didn't know what to say, so he staid quiet and glared the stars, like he was searching something.

When Sam wandered outside, the house was silent. No sound of keyboard tapping, no sound of coffee dripping on the pan. Only Bobby's snoring as the old man slept bear's sleep in his bedroom, which was on the facing side of the corridor where Dean's bedroom was.

Dean didn't sleep. He hadn't slept not even one single glanze since Castiel had left about three days ago. Dean had lost count in hours, minutes, seconds he had staid awake, mostly just staring at the ceiling, making Sam believe that he actually was resting.

In the dark hours of night Dean found himself crying and screaming internally. It wasn't something he usually did. He lied on the bed, face buried in his hands, tears flowing once again uncontrollably, but somehow he managed to keep himself quite quiet. Maybe it was just because he bit his teeth hard on the base of his thumb, so hard that it left reddish marks on him.

What did Dean cry about? He even himself didn't know. It just came. Emptyish feeling was quickly replaced by shaking mix of remorse, ire and endless grief.

It so strongly seemed that whatever happened to Castiel was just and only his fault. And why did he feel so strong about it? Dean couldn't explain it.

People always realize how much they need someone, when it's too late. When that someone's too far from the reach.

After 4 days search for Crowley turned sticky.

"This is hopeless", Dean moaned, rolling his eyes. They had turned blurry from amnesia and had dark shadows underneath - Dean seemed to be only one to notice this little fact. He blinked his eyes rapidly to stay awake right now. He just couldn't sleep - he'd only have nightmares. Terrifying, heartbreaking nightmares. He didn't need that crap right now. He took another sip of a coffee and crossed his legs other way around as he sat on the corner of the table Sam had his laptop on.

"C'mon, Dean, it has never been easy - and it's Crowley we're talking about, right?" Sam tried to convience them both, Dean and Bobby, but he as well sounded pretty insecure.

"Maybe we should just..." he continued, glanzing back at his laptop, lowering his brows and puckering up his lips.

"Should what, Sam?" Dean asked right away, sounding almost overwhelmingly irritated.

"Should what? Give up? Huh?" Dean rose up from his slumped position, placing the coffeecup on the table.

"Is that what you mean?" It seemed that Dean was trying to pick up a fight there.

"Dean, no, I just... There hasn't been even one single sign of Crowley in days. Weeks. I jsut think that maybe we should call it off or..."

"OR?"

"Or change the target." The way how Sam looked away, revealed much. Dean's eyes diminished sinisteringly and Sam almost knew what to wait.

"Cas, you mean? We're gonna hunt down Cas?" Dean's voice was as steady as it could ever be. And that's what made it so poisonous.

"He saved me, Sam. And we're gonna gank his ass now?" Tone sharpened and Dean's lips twitched.

"He tried to kill you, Dean." Dean jerked, and his fist hit the table. Sam flinched a little, even when he had expected this reaction.

"Dean, calm DOWN", Bobby bid right away. He didn't want boys to fight in front of him, not again - even when he understood that Dean maybe had his reasons to get pissed.

"We're not... Going to extinguish him. No way in hell!" Dean said, voice now litlle shaken, as he rose his arm and pointed at Sam with his index finger. He was dead serious. Even thought Castiel maybe was all soulstoned, there was no way he'd ever go after him. Somehow, he just couldn't even stand a thought of it.

"And how long have you known about his plans, huh?" he hissed, as he turned facing Bobby. Man just lifted his shoulders - maybe looking little ashamed.

"He's a monster", he just said.

"Yeah? So have we been, too. I was a vampire, and Sam wandered around without a soul - still we're here. No-one ganked out asses. We need to talk to him, if something." Dean was so pissed, so upset, that Sam and Bobby both knew it would be no use trying to talk some sense into him.

Sam knew, that Castiel had saved Dean. But what Castiel was now... It was no good. And if they wouldn't do something about it, Castiel would probably roast the whole place up.

"Well, fuck you, Sam", was all that Dean could think of now, before he turned and marched out of the room, slamming the door shut after himself.

Next and a last thing Sam heard was Impala's roaring on the courtyard.


	9. Blind faith

Dean had escaped the situation again. Little cowardly, maybe, but he just had to get out of there. Talks of killing Castiel were just too much for him. Yeah, of course he understood that one pissed off former angel full of monster souls would be no good running around alive and kicking but... Cas was their friend right? Part of the family once? Somehow Dean just felt that he had this awful urge to... Just put things back like they had been once. Himself, Sam and Cas on the road saving people and hunting things. Family business, like he had said once.

Now he was behind the wheel alone, pissed off and little desperate too. He had no clue, what to do. There would be no way that he'd make Sam and Bobby change their minds - they seemed to be absolute about hunting Cas. For them the ex-angel was nothing more than a monster, threat, which needed to be eliminated as soon as possible. They had never had same kind of relationship with Cas that Dean did.

Dean moaned silently and slumped little lower on his seat. He pressed the bridge of his nose with his fingertips - lack of sleep had started to show up in fierce headaches. And Dean almost never had headaches.

"Fuck", he sighed as his vision turned blurry and flashy. He had to pull car off from road, car accident was the last thing he needed right now.

"I need to lie down a sec", he mumbled to himself. Yeah, he did that a lot these days. Talked to himself to stay awake. He still held his head, as he opened the door and stepped out of the car. Day had turned into evening and air was chill - Dean glared up like he almost waited for snow to fall. Then dizzy feeling got worse again and he walked little unsteadily in front of the car, and sat on the hood. He sighed again and lied down, feet on the ground and back against the steel, feeling the warmth of the cooling down engine through the layers of clothing. Pain pounded somewhere on his temples, and he could feel it radiating all the way to his teeth - what an awful feeling it was and it made him hope that he would have picked up some alcoholic beverage to ease it.

"Things are really fucked up..."

"If that's how you want to put it", said silent voice next to him. Dean startled so badly that he almost fell off from the hood. Dean almost jumped up and fell down right away.

"Cas!" Castiel sat there on the hood, his legs not touching the ground for him being too short. Every now and then he waved his legs like a little child.

"Yes, it is me, Dean." Angel glared at the sky, looking dead calm, almost emotionless. Like he had been when Dean and he had met first time.

"You're dreaming, Dean", he said right away, before Dean had time to say anything. Dean stood up, narrowing his eyes and opened his mouth...

"Worry not. You're still sleeping on the hood of Impala in the side roads of South Dakota", Castiel continued right away, now turning his eyes on Dean's.

"But... If you know where I am then why..."

"Your brother. He knows where you are, Dean. He's tracking you down as we speak." Castiel jumped lightly off the hood took couple of steps, so he was facing Dean. Dean raised his chin little, to gather some space between them - Cas had never been too good in personal space things.

"I _know _what you are up to. And I trust that if you know me as well as you assume to, you'll stop going after me right now, or I'll destroy you. All of you." Something in Castiel felt so threatening that Dean almost fell back on his ass.

"I healed you. I did teach you a lesson. You should show me some gratitude." Dean lowered his brows again and raised his hands, like he was about to lay them on Castile's shoulders... He changed his mind at the last moment and pulled them back.

"You know, Cas... I'd never do that to you, you know? You may be out of your head right now, but I'd NEVER hunt you down, okay? Listen... I'll stop Sam and Bobby. You don't have to kill anyone anymore. You're one of the good guys, right?" Dean spoke out. Every time he opened his mouth, Castiel seemed to turn more and more irritated about him.

"Cas. I... I..." Dean tried to say something, but sentence was cut down and he bit his lip hard, clenching his hands on tight fists. He just looked slowly up on Cas.

"I'm sorry", he muttered, before quickly gripped Castiel by the hair whacked his lips on his. Yet again he didn't know why he did it. It just somehow felt like the right thing to do. He heard the former angel snarl loudly against his mouth and his hands gripped tight on the collar of his leather jacket. Push didn't turn into a shove, and soon enough Dean noticed he had pushed Cas back on the hood, kissing him and hands running up and down his body. Familiar energy from the last time was floating in him again. Cas growled again, and he tightened his hold on collar, making the grip almost suffocating.

"D... Dean", Castiel moaned against his mouth. Dean didn't listen, so he pulled his head off.

"Stop it. You have no right..." Dean almost rushed to let go of him. Like he had understood once again what he had done.

"Cas..."

"Don't say anything. Meet me here. Throw off your mobile", he mumbled, wiping his mouth on his palm, and with other one he shoved small piece of paper on Dean's hands, before disappearing again. Dean startled awake, and noticed he was staring at the most beautiful night sky.

"My wet dreams have gone really... Odd", he muttered, as he pushed himself up, noticing that the headache had eased up a little. Only in minutes he was again behind the wheel, heading for the address Castiel had given him, in a blind faith, in hope that things would be better, that he could talk Castiel out of it. His mobile lied on the asphalt, left behind. It rang and the screen told it was Sam, trying to reach his brother.


	10. Fucked up story of my life

Dean parked his Impala in the shadow of that large, old looking mansion. He hadn't had a clue that there was this kind of building less than 100 miles away from Bobby's house. Most of the large windows had been broken and nailed up, and green vines had taken over the facade, rustled the grout and invaded the mansion through couple of open windows. Charming is how Dean would have sarcastically described the place.

Once again he stood out from the car, slamming the door shut. Loud noise coming from it scared a pack of black crows into a fly from the large tree nearby. Sky had already turned dark, stars could be seen and the pink horizon disappeared behind the old house - last beams of light escaped from the sides of the building.

As much as Dean was trusty with the whole situation, he circled the car and opened the trucks. No way in Hell he'd enter that kind wreck of a house without equipments. He picked up his sawn-off shotgun, checking it out and stuffing his pockets full of shotgun shells he turned to face the house.

"This is the worst idea ever", he mumbled, almost starting to regret going here all on his own. Something in back of his mind still pushed the dubious thoughts away and so Dean approached the house quickly, climbing up crumbled stone steps just to notice that the large, dark wooded front door was open. He pushed it so he could lure through.

Hall was dark and large staircase lead to second floor.

"Cas?" Dean didn't have a time to waste, so he called out for him right away, hoping for an answer.

"Castiel!" His voice got louder and he walked through the hall, and climbed up the stairs.

"Answer to me!"

Strongly it seemed that the whole place was empty - Dean sighed and turned, he was ready to leave... Until he heard door creak at the end of the hallway going to left. He narrowed his eyes and started approaching the door slowly, holding up his gun, ready to face anything.

Dark marble made his footsteps echo from the walls. There was piles of dead leafs here and there. In all its gloriness it reminded Dean from the hiding place he and CAS had used while hunting down Lucifer when Sam was gone. Corner of his mouth twitched, maybe to turn down, maybe to turn into a smile.

"Cas? Is that you?" he called out, still not getting an answer. He pressed his hand against the door and pushed it open - almost blinding from the light coming from the room.

"Hello Dean. I've been studying these birds for a while now", familiar voice greeted him. Dean blinked his eyes rapidly - light slowly faded and there Castiel was other side of the large room which was furnished to suit the almost black floor. He sat on the windowsill, staring outside, where the crows croaked.

"Why'd you call me here?" Dean didn't have a time to mince his words, so he decided to cut the slack, the unnecessary bullshit talking and go straight to subject. Castiel turned to glaze him and smiled slightly.

"I need you, Dean." He stood up and wiped the dust off from his suit - trench coat was neatly folded on the large, grey armchair's back few feet away from him. Dean raised his eyebrow and looked at Castiel little incredulous.

"You don't need that, either", Castiel continued and nodded towards shotgun Dean was still holding. Along the nod something clicked in Dean and he just simply dropped the gun down; Thank God it didn't go off, was all he thought.

"Cas...?" Dean took one a bit awkward step closer. Castiel raised his chin, looking prideful.

"I need you, Dean. I'm the God, but I need my scions. Heirs..." he explained, pressing his palms together and walking towards Dean.

"I need you to bend on my every command."

It took a while for Dean to understand the exact words the former angel was forming from his lips.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked at last, pressing his fingers against his temple, like he was having another headache and looked little amused.

"You're going your brother's vestige, Dean." Castiel was so close, that Dean felt his breath on his face.

"You're already... Contingent to it, aren't you, Dean?" Dean took sharp breath between his lips.

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

"The energy, Dean. Energy. From Purgatory souls. The headaches are caused by lack of it. You can't sleep either, can't you?" Dean twitched.

"Stop your bullshit, Cas. You sound ridiculous, you know", he bawled, clenching his hands in tight fists.

"I... I can't sleep, because... I just can't okay! It's not rare for people in this situation." Castiel uplifted his brows and looked almost amused.

"Why did you come here in a first place, Dean?" he asked and walked past him, stretching his arm and closing the door behind Dean.

"What was exactly the thing that brought you here?" Castiel spoke out prolonged, emphasizing every single word. He turned and leaned against the door, blocking Dean's escape way.

"Cas..."

"I can see your face is all angry. Why is that, Dean?"

"Why did you come to see me then? I mean, days ago? When you popped up and awakened me? For... This?" Dean sounded upset, as much as he tried to cover it up.

"You seem to understand more satisfyingly than I thought." Dean turned and almost without thinking gripped Cas by a suit jacket and slammed him hard against the door.

"Oh. Let me go, Dean." It annoyed Dean, how calm Castiel could keep himself.

"So Sam was right, huh? About you being a monster? That we should hunt you down?" Corner of Castiel's eyes nibbled a bit, but otherwise his whole appearance staid cold as ice. He lifted his hands and winded his delicate fingers around Dean's wrists.

"You need it, don't you? You want to absorb it out of me. Like father like son, they say, but I must say, you Winchester brothers, you are special. Willing to die for each other... Willing to do anything, ANYTHING to gain some potency, vigour..." Castiel spoke out, staring at Dean's green eyes with his own bright blue ones. Dean slammed the door with his hand.

"Damnit, Cas!" he grunted between his tight squeezed jaws. He blinked his eyes - tears?

"You selfish, selfish bastard!" he continued, now yelling. Castiel just stared him blankly. Dean gulped - his mouth felt like bucket of sand at the moment.

"You... Are making a mistake here, don't you see? You're destroying yourself."

"No Dean. I'm becoming complete." Castiel smiled slightly, sliding his hands from Dean's wrists to his shoulders.

"You'll see one day." Energy bursted into Dean's body again. Stunning, luscious energy which made Dean want to fall on the floor and die, but he knew it was no good. He had to pull off.

"What is it, Dean?" Castiel asked, looking at his palms, with a "did I do something wrong" look on his face.

"You're a freaking devil, Cas", Dean panted, holding his chest with his hand as he withdrawed all the way through the room, until he slumped sitting on a same windowsill Castiel had sat on.

"That's... Where you're wrong. I have good intentions, Dean. You can try to stop me, but I promise, you won't succeed."

"I'd rather die than let your feathery ass run this world", Dean said right away, leaning his head on the cold glass.

"You almost did die."

"Fuck you." Castiel walked slowly to him, cupping his cheeks and making Dean look at himself.

"You still don't understand, Dean", he whispered, looking a tad sad for a fleeting moment. This time the touch was normal - Castiel was suddenly holding back.

"Cas, no", Dean uttered, giving a pained grin as tears uncontrollably fell on his freckled cheeks. He tried to pull his head off from Castiel's hold so he could wipe them off but it was no use. Castiel wanted to see it all. Pain. Tears. All of it. He studied, how Dean's lips shook, his eyes wandered around to avoid eye contact, how tears dropped and ran down... For him, it was somehow…

Beautiful.


	11. If you'd only understand

Dean cried like a little child. Castiel still held tight on his face, staring at him, studying his face with emotionless eyes.

"Let go of me", Dean pleaded, once again trying to pull his head off, but only finding himself being stuck between the window and Castiel. Tears kept falling, he couldn't help it. He just lifted his arms slowly and leaned them to rest on Cas' wrists, without even trying to struggle now. His hands felt like they weighted tons. At least.

"Hate you", he moaned, his eyes now tightly closed, like it would stop him from crying. He gulped, and took sharp, sniffing breath.

"I hate you, Cas." Castiel narrowed his eyes, and tilted his head.

"You're confusing me, Dean."

"You're just playing with me, huh?" Dean rise his look on Cas, eyes turned red from crying.

"Was I ever nothing more than a plaything to you, Cas?" Dean's lips shivered and he licked them rapidly, and time by times he took his lower lip between his white teeth. Castiel just kept deeming him, not saying anything. Blue eyes were as emotionless as they had been last couple of minutes by now.

Dean's fingers wrapped tighter around former angel's wrists and now he managed to pull the hands off from his face.

"Answer to me, bastard! All that... All... Was it just an act... For this?" The more he spoke, the more calm words turned into yelling and crying got worse. It was like bawling now. Sad, loud blubbering. He shoved Cas away from himself, but didn't move himself - just buried his face in his hands and leaned on his knees, shoulders shaking and breath going to his lungs more troubled at the moment.

Castiel tilted his head on the other side. He had never seen Dean or any other human acting like this... He wasn't sure if he understood. Dean seemed to be very badly out of breath and even more worse out of his mind, crying out like that, howling and demanding for answers. Castiel stretched his hands towards the man, but didn't touch him.

"You're wrong, Dean. You were the human whom I was supposed to protect. To be a guardian angel over for... I..." In a brief moment of unclarity he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Dean's head in a clumsy hug kind. It was no use, Castiel noticed, when Dean started crying even harder. Whole man shook right now.

"I still have remains of those feelings. Don't cry." Dean let his hands fall off from his face, only to grip strictly on former angel's white shirt, burying his face on it.

"Despite your misbelieve... Betrayal... You've been good to me." Castiel started slowly stroke Dean's short, messy hair, looking down on a weeping man.

"So no. You've never been my 'plaything' as you put it." Dean took again sharp, quick breath, like it would be his last one.

"Initially I called you here to slay you, Dean. But... I seem to be weak. Poor God for not to punish the miscreant. Poor, poor God to have these kind of feeling to a traitor. Apostate." Castiel kneeled, looking on Dean's cried face - oh how beautiful he looked even now.

"All is well. Go back to your brother. And tell him, what I told you about hunting me", Castiel said, suddenly looking more cold again after his 'smooth talks'.

"Cas..." Dean whimpered, his hand grasping hold on Castiel's coat. Man looked at him, broken, corners of his mouth turned downwards. He sniffed - all the pride man had hold seemed to be ripped off from him.

"Cas... I'm so sorry for all. Everything", Dean lamented.

"I know you are, Dean. But it's too late. I'm a God..." _And you'd never understand_, Castiel thought, smiling sadly.  
>"And you're just a human." He saw Dean's brows lowering even more if just possible and his whole being crushing. Castiel repeating those words he had once said... It was all too much. He straightened his back from his slumped position and looked at Cas with newborn defiance in his eyes.<p>

"Fuck you." With these hissed words, he insinuated himself off from between Cas and the windowsill and started striding fast across the room, heading to the door. Castiel stood still there where Dean had left him. When Dean's fingertips touched the doorknob...

"Dean! Stop", Cas suddenly shouted, turning and loping after him. He catched Dean by the hand and pulled him off from the door. Without saying another word, he adhered Dean by the back of his neck, closed his eyes and pulled him in a soft, almost vulnerable kiss, pushing him against the door, even when everything in him told himself that it was terribly, terribly wrong thing to do.


	12. Tame me

**Sorry for the lack of uploading~ Been having busy.**

* * *

><p>Dean didn't go for it, not this time. He just slipped his shaky hands between them and shoved former angel away from himself, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, breathing hard and avoided looking at his eyes at his full power.<p>

"No. Don't. Please", he whispered, turning again to face the door. He laid his hand on the doorknob, but didn't open it, just slumped against it, pressing his forehead against the cold wood and sighed.

"Sam and Bobby are coming for you, you know", he said silently, repeating his old words.

"And I'm not going to stop them. I don't allow myself to go for it, even when every tad bit of me screams for it.. But I won't stop them. Just so you know", he muttered in hoarse voice, fighting himself from weeping again. It had already calmed down, but now it lurked somewhere in his chest.

Castiel placed his hand on his shoulder, making him turn back to him. Dean glared again anywhere but to him and Castiel noticed it making him little bit gloomier... If he even felt anything.

This might have been the last time they met during Dean's humanlife.

"Allow me, Dean", he only said, taking those final steps and tugging hunter closer by his leather jacket. Dean didn't like that, but he didn't resist this time. He watched silently, as Castiel worked his jacket off from his shoulders, letting it drop on dusty marble floor. Former angels hands trailed the way from Dean's hands to his neck, feeling him tense under his hands.

"Be afraid not, Dean. I know what happens in your heart." Dean gulped and kept glaring through the windows. Sky was getting darker and darker all the time, and Dean couldn't tell the time anymore.

"Calm yourself. I'm not about to harm you this time", Castiel said in comforting tone, his thumbs almost unnoticeably rubbing Dean's neck.

"And I... Wish I could apologize. But I can't. I wish you could understand."

Dean stood there frozen, head cocked to the side, eyes staring to nowhere. He couldn't say anything, didn't even want to. He allowed Castiel to have his hands all over him, now at his neck, but he didn't have even the smallest intention to touch him back. Not this time. He felt hurt, betrayed... Maybe this was exactly the same situation he had put Castiel into. And it made his guts go in a tight knot and blood rush off from his limbs, turning them numb and cold. Castiel withdrawed his hands from his neck without any single warning and paced calmly through the room, back to his lookout place by the window and sat on the wide windowsill, forehead being pressed against the cold window.

"I think you should leave, Dean. Your brother is looking for you. He's apprehensive by you", he said slowly, bright blue eyes widen and gazing out in the darkness.

"But..." Dean found himself growing more and more anxious. He brushed his other palm quickly over his face. The hand was cold and sweaty. Dean let his eyes wander around again as his mouth cracked open in a shaky sigh like gasp.

"You... I... Cas, I'm..." Dean struggled hard this time. Apologizing for any being was hard for him, nearly insuperable blockade to him... But this? This was just impossible. He had pleaded for forgiveness so many times during this week that it had made him almost insensitive about it. Now it all had came back in one cold rush which thrilled him even in his deepest guts, in the marrows of his even smallest bones... Forgiveness to save the world from Castiel's hatred and wrath that he possibly had inside him, it didn't matter to Dean, not even a slightest, smallest bit. Not the lives of billions of innocent people out there. The forgiveness he was after... Was for something else. For him. He backed up those couple swaying steps and crashed against the door, almost hearing the cracking sound and slided down.

"I wish you had killed me back then. You'd find your peace, Cas", he said silently, words just floating off from the back of his tongue, and he wasn't sure if he meant them or not. He saw Castiel's shoulders tense up, but the former angel didn't turn to him. He solely lifted his hand, scretching his long, slim fingers before pressing them against the window.

"One... Should not let that kind of words flee their lips, Dean", Castiel said quietly, breath streaming on the window. Of course. Old mansion didn't have any kind of heating system. No wonder Dean felt his arms slowly have goose bumps, and they slowly spreaded all the way to his fingertips.

"Cas... If it's the only way to gain your forgiveness..." Dean mumbled, mostly to himself. His eyes traveled across the marble floor, seeing dead leafs here and there - one large window in the end of the window column was broken and pieces were shattered all around the floor.

Dean was desperate. He wanted to leave, but his body refused to move. Instead his fingers reached to his gun.

"Dean, what are you doing?" asked Castiel from the window. He hadn't even turned his look to him. Dean said nothing back, only stared at the shotgun on the floor, lying feet away from him, and reached his fingers to it. He slid it across the floor to himself, and lifted it on his lap, studying it. _Shut it, _Dean mouthed soundlessy, as he picked the gun properly in his hand.

"Dean." Castiel's tone was more demanding as he turned to face him from across the room. Dean grinned and lifted his jaw a bit, barrel of a gun caressing his skin smoothly, even when being so raspy.

"I'm reckless. I betray everyone. I'm no good."

And so it seemed that lack of sleep and food, stress and drinking had finally done their job.

Dean Winchester had lost it.


	13. Gunpowder in your feathers

For a moment, which for Dean seemed like forever, he only sat there, collapsed against the floor but still at the moment on one piece, body all numb and sluggish, only feeling in his whole body the rough, cold douple barrel of that fucking shotgun against his underside of his chin. He gulped, feeling his Adam's apple move against the gun under his skin.

"I'll do it." Dean's voice seemed to be absolute, but Castiel heard tiny grue of uncertainity. Man glazed to Castiel with half-opened, hazel eyes, eyelashes laying dark shadows under his eyes. His eyes were darkened, sad, broken, and Castiel knew it, knew it well. Even when the air was as cold as it was now, Dean being only on his t-shirt when Castiel had undressed him from his jacket.

"No, you're not going to do it Dean. You're scared. You're insecure. You love your brother too much and don't want him to go through same things he did in your time in Hell", Castiel spoke, turning now fully towards Dean, hand clenching on a fist on the windowsill. Fast hint of anger glinted on Dean's eyes, and he pulled himself together, shaped up and straightened his back a little, slamming his head against the wall.

"I will. I swear", he said, as he whacked the barrel against his skin again, putting some pressure on the trigger. Castiel narrowed his eyes.

"I'll fucking pay my dept to you Cas. By my brain scat on the walls, with my blood", Dean said, starting slowly and calmly, but ended up screaming the last sentence. His mouth had turned into twisted grimace, and his lips shook the way that told Castiel that he wasn't far away from cracking up.

Dean breathed hard, corner of his eye twitching once or twice, when he put just little more pressure on trigger. Little more and he'd be kicked far above the stars and then right down where he had been pulled from. Of course he didn't want that. Or...?

"Dean. Put the gun down", Castiel said, emphasizing every single words he let out. He took a step closer, which made Dean only weigh the gun harder, making the sawed off barrels sink on his skin, scratching it until it bled. Round, deepish cut right under his chin.

"DEAN." Castiel sounded demanding, almost pissed off if even possible. In a blink of an eye, Dean pulled the trigger, gun went off. Shots sank deep, ripping everything on their way. Gunpowder reeked in the air.

But there was almost no blood anywhere.

Pantings filled up the air. Dean was still sitting spinelessly against the door. But it wasn't his head that had been cracked up and splattered all around the walls. No. He was just fine. Startled to death by the shot, but fine. Sweatdrops ran down his temples, his hazel eyes were clear and wide open now. His mouth had formed round 'O' and he breathed in fast, sharp and airless.

His hands were still on the gun's handle, but gun wasn't anymore under his chin.

In a the hundredth part of a second, Castiel had teleported himself to Dean, knowing that the shot was about to come. Now he sat straddled on Dean's thighs, long, slender fingers wadded around his wrists and pulling his hands away from himself.

Castiel panted hard, bright blue eyes staring fiercely at Dean, teeth showing.

He had spreaded his black, massive wings, and they were quivered, casting dark shadows upon them. Dean stared at them in a shocked, speechless state. He hadn't seen the wings in a long, long time.

"Ah..." He let out silent wince and let go of the gun. Castiel laid it on the floor and kind of slumped towards Dean. Dean grapped him before he did.

"Cas! Cas, what..." It was just fright that had gotten into Castiel, and couple of shots had hit him in the shoulder. It was nothing that Castiel couldn't cope with but... For Dean it was like a kick in the stomach. It evacuated his lungs and for a while it was hard to breath for him. HE had did this.

"Castiel! Castiel I'm..." His heart pounded hard against his ribs. He lifted his hands to Castiel's jacket, pulling it off without even asking to see the damage he had done. Blood welled up quickly from the couple of wounds on shoulder and absorbed on his white shirt with ripped holes in it.

"Oh fuck! Cas I'm..." Castiel, who dangled his head shook it a little and took a small breath, lifting his other hand and pressing his index finger on Dean's lips telling simply '_shut up'. _Castiel straightened his back and unbuttoned his shirt fast and smooth, pulling it off. First thing Dean saw was old scar from angel banishing sigil Castiel and him had carved on his chest once. Wound had never healed. Or maybe Castiel just hadn't allowed it to.

The wound on the shoulder looked pretty nasty. Skin had ripped and flesh was hanging in strings every now and there, and the wound was deep. Some of the shots had gone right through, when rest of them had either sank on his flesh or in the ceiling, where the mortar peeled off by the hit.

Castiel placed his hand on his shoulder, and with one brush the shots pushed themselves out, and dropped heavily on Dean's legs and to the floor. Skin gathered up quickly, and in no time there was no trace of a wound at all. Castiel breathed in deeply, eyes closed.

Finally he stood up, returning his blue glaze to Dean, as he folded his large, black wings against his back.

"It's better if you leave now..."

"Cas!"

"Dean." It was clear that Castiel didn't want Dean to speak no more. Silently he stood up, glaring at angel.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I never meant..."  
>"Leave, Dean."<p>

"Cas, I..." Words tangled in his throat.

"I know", Castiel said, like reading his mind. He looked him over his shoulder, tips of his wondrous wings thrilling. Dean swallowed nothing and walked to him.

"I never meant it to be this way. Cas... I love you", he said silently, struggling with his words like he was about to choke on them, placing his palms on former angel's bare back, just under the spot where the wings united with his fair skin. He brushed it slightly, before laying his sweaty forehead against the back of his neck. He felt Castiel tremble and his feather brush his bare hands.

"Leave. Now."


	14. Rejection

Dean noticed he was breathing uncomfortably fast, panting against Castiel's neck. Castiel's strick, low, husky words made Dean shake and only press himself tighter against him.

"I need old you back, I miss... Old you, Cas. That idiot whom was afraid as hell when he saw hookers, remember? That angel who... Please." Dean let his hands go down on Castiel's hips and he carefully wrapped his hands around him. He felt Castiel's stomach be rising rapidly, and muscles tense up. Wings twitched strongly, spreaded out a little and then were folded back on his back. Former angel was pissed, Dean could tell.

"Cas. Talk to me, please." Dean licked his lips quickly and let out trembling breath. He pulled off from him, gripped him by the shoulders and forced him to turn around to face him.

"Castiel!" There was desperate glint in Dean's widened eyes as he locked his eyes on Cas'. Emotions, that gleamed in Castiel's eyes as he turned and looked him straight to the eye, were unknown for Dean.

"Don't..." Castiel's eyes were wide open, darkened into deep blue, mouth was only a tight line, pink lips faded almost to white and corners of his nose creased the way that made him look almost animalistic. Dean heard him gasping for air.

"You..." Castiel's voice was lower and lower all the time, husky and threatening.

"TOUCH ME!" he shouted, all of the sudden, his mouth opening fully, canines showing, startling Dean worse than ever. Other of his wide wings darted unfolded, filling the room up with it's mightyness, blocking out the moonlight coming from the windows.

Dean didn't even have a time to say another word, when the harsh bone going through the wing hit him straight to the chest, kicking out the air from his lungs. The hit was so hard, that it flew him across the room, where he slided meters on the slick marble floor before hitting fast against the wall, uttering loudly as he did. He was left lying there, being too suprised, too pained to move.

"What the fuck", he groaned under his breath, every single gasp hurting as he pushed himself up with one arm, other one pressing his chest, looking for broken ribs.

"Maybe you do _love me, _Dean, but it's too late. Too late for that. When I was an angel once, I loved you, loved you more than anything and you threw it back on my face. And so shall I. Leave. Now. Or I'll kill you", Castiel hissed from the other side of the room, wings extended threateningly on their full size, pitch black feathers sighing against each other as the wind blew in from the broken window.

Dean pushed himself up slowly, gaze never leaving Castiel's eyes. He could almost feel the bones cracking underneath his skin, but nothing seemed yet to be broken. He took a deep breath and walked towards Castiel. Former angel twitched, like ready to strike again. Dean said nothing, but walked to him, and past him, crouched to pick up his jacket and gun.

"I meant it. I want you back. Old you. And that I love you", Dean said in rough, volatile voice behind Castiel's back. Every single cell in his body wanted him to turn and seize him in embrace with his arms, but mind worked different ways now.

Maybe it was just a time to give up. There was no turning heads now, for either one of them, or so it very much looked like.

_For good._

Dean's drive back to Bobby's took many times more than what it had took him to drive to mansion. Once in a while he had to pull off, only to rest his forehead against the steering wheel, panting and being unable to breath through his tears.

It was all over for them, for him, for Castiel. There would not be what was before, he knew it damn sure now. Angel was gone, and what Dean had been talking with... It wasn't Castiel. It was just a sad travesty of that nerd angel who he had been. Who Dean had cared for. Like brother. Who Dean had even loved.

And still did. As hard as it was to admit.

When Dean knocked on Bobby's door, he felt ashamed. Matter a fact, he was too ashamed to go straight in. He heard stomping steps, almost like someone was running, and door got pulled open. Sam's figure appeared in front of him, as the light coming behind him laid shadow's in his face, making them hard to see.

"Hiya, Sammy", Dean said in raspy voice, looking down on his shoes. What Dean didn't wait, was Sam's fist in the corner of his eye. Dean swayed, but somehow managed to stay up on his feet. He wiped his hurting cheek on his palm, sneering silently.  
>"I waited for that", he mumbled, looking at his hand, maybe searching for the trails of blood. None.<p>

"Where the fuck have you been?" Sam yelled, his figure blocking the way in.  
>"Is that Dean? Bring him here and I'll beat his sorry ass!" Bobby's voice could be heard behind him.<p>

"I..." Dean fell quiet. He came to conclusion that he didn't have not one single good explanation. What would Sam say if he heard that he had thrown off his mobile and went to see murderous God? Inacceptable, that's what it would for Sam be. And then Dean wouldn't get away with just one punch. Sam would possibly slaughter him.

"I was driving. Lost my cell", he mumbled, looking away.

"Lost it? How the hell did you lost it if you were driving? And... What the hell happened to you? You're all scratched up!" Sam prattled, suddenly gripping his jaw and examinesing his face, missing the round cut under it. Dean wouldn't love to exlaing it to him.

"I'm tired. Can I go to sleep now?" he asked, pushing Sam away from him. His brother snorted at him, giving his famous bitchface.

"Talk to you in a morning", Dean said to Bobby before man could say anything to criticize him. All the way through the aisle and the stairs to second floor, he looked down, trying to hide his crying swallowed and reddened face and eyes.


	15. Approaching the end

Dean didn't want to get up from the bed. How long it had been?

Days? Weeks? He wasn't sure anymore. He tossed and turned in bed at night, for hours and hours, heart pounding inside ribcage like he had just ran miles. At full speed. Hands were soaked in cold sweat, head was full of unneeded thoughts. Castiel had messed him up again, this time mentally.

Dean hated it how Sam was worried for him again. In Dean's opinion, Sam should have worried more for himself - he was the one who had broken the wall in his head by... Castiel. But Sam seemed to be just fine.

Maybe troubles came afterwards.

Dean got up from bed when sun was coming up, unable to sleep again. Damnit. Just what he needed. Without asking he stole another bottle of whiskey from Bobby and sneaked out of the house to carage yard.

Just hour later he laid under the Impala again - Baby was still a bit wrecked from the smoke attack by Crowley. He had fixed it quickly within a week, but still there were some flaws. For example, there was huge dent on the side of her, and on the roof too. Paint had been scraped of from here and there and stones had grazed the metal all over. He did his best to patch her up - he had done it before when they had got hit by a truck, before their dad died. He knew he could do it, but his ability to concentrate to anything was ruined at the moment.

It was all about Cas, no matter how he tried to take his mind out of him. Time had passed, Dean had waited, but every day going by he lost a bit of his fate. Maybe Castiel's rejection was final this time. Maybe they'd never see each other again. Maybe he'd hunt Castiel down some day.

He shook his head to himself and snorted. He'd never do that, even if he'd have to. He wouldn't be able. He wasn't one to slaughter his _family. _

And of course his twisted family could hold on to one another monster too. He had dealt with Sam, so why not with freaking Deity? Dean sighed, wanting to hit his forehead to engine peeping up in front of him. What a waste of time.

He tightened one nut with monkey wrench and finally gave up. He couldn't focus. He sighed again and just lied there, on frozen group, back against the pench, staring without seeing quite anything, tapping with a wrench on his thigh.

When Dean sneaked out, Sam had woken up. Well, it wasn't too hard to wake him up and Dean in the end wasn't the most quiet person ever. And to boot, he had slept face squeezed on Bobby's desk as he had done research all night. Checking out weathermaps and stuff like that. He needed to find Castiel. Or Crowley, whatever, either one was fine for him. He wanted his payback for the things they had done to his family. During the last hours of when he was awake, he had finally found the end of the red thread.

Odd signs in small village in eastern Utah... He was pretty sure that the signs were demonic. And to look the size and amount of them, he was pretty damn sure it was Crowley they were talking about. But there were some things that made him unsure about it. He'd just have to check them out. He'd talk to Bobby when he'd wake up and... They'd hit the road. It wouldn't be too good an idea to pick up Dean with them. Man was a one big mess, and Sam didn't even know why. He didn't talk to him. About anything. It was still unclear, why the hell Dean had ran away that one night, where he had gone and what had happened to him. And Sam just died to know. But Dean didn't talk so he'd just have to scorch in his endless curiosity.

Sam heard his brother cry in the nights, when he thought that everyone else was sleeping. He just didn't have a heard to storm in his room and... What, comfort him? It never worked like that between them. He just let him be, hoping that 'time would heal his scars' or something.

It was hard trying to keep their planned hunting trip as a secret for Dean. Usually he was just drinking by himself, but when it was about hunts, he was all in for them. And in the field, he was like an animal. Sam didn't like that feature in him.

At last Dean went to his room, locking the door after him.

"We gotta go now if we're going to go", Sam hissed to Bobby. Man looked at him with eyes full of insecureness - they'd be screwed, going there just two of them. But it would be too risky to take Dean with them.

"This ain't good, Sam. Someone should kick some sense back on that stupid brat", Bobby whispered back to him, brows lowering in worry.

"Well. There's clearly something wrong with him but... We can't do anything about it if he doesn't just talk."

Dean was awoken from his thoughts as he heard Bobby's car moan as it was kicked running. What the hell? He looked at clock - it was way too late for shopping. He jumped up from his bed, ready to dash outside, but just ended up hitting the door, forgetting that he had locked it.

"Fuck!" he screamed as he heard the car leaving the yard. He opened the lock and ran downstairs, almost falling off the stairs. No freaking way he'd be left here on his own!

"Bobby!" he yelled as he slammed the frontdoor open. Too late. Yard was already empty.

"Fucking hell!" Dean swore out, breath steaming, kicking the empty can on the floor, hitting his hand on the wall, only causing couple splinters to sink in his flesh. He groaned and pulled his hand, licking the blood off from the side of his hand. He shoved his other hand on his pocket, reaching for mobile. Sam would freaking get an earful from him. He searched the number from list, sucking his bleeding hand, tapping his leg on the ground. Damn, wasn't he pissed off right now.

Sam never picked up as he called.


	16. Reunion

**OH! Thank you for all the heartwarming reviews. C: And I here thought this fic sucked ass. OH WELL. You may go on now. *gentle slap on the back***

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><p>Ridiculous, that's what it was. Dean stomped around the house, cursing loud out to himself and every five minutes tried to call to Sam again.<p>

"I'll fucking kick your ass when you come back!" "Where the fuck did you leave?" and stuff like that were the angry voicemails left on Sam's answerer. Soon it was stocked up with his messages so he had to give up on that and he casted the mobile he had loaned from Sam (due he had stupidly thrown his own away) over his shoulder and leaned on Bobby's desk, huffing to himself, full of anger and annoyance. Even if he called to turn on Sam's GPS, it would be no use. His phone was off.

Dean glazed over the papers lying all around the table, eyes locking on the map of Utah with one city circled with red pen.

"You fucking idiot", Dean mumbled to himself. All the work to leave him behind and then Sam goes and leaves MAP lying around? Geez, they must have been in a hurry. Dean grapped the piece of paper and stuffed it scatterbrainedly on his jeans' backpocket. He took a little time to check out other papers - omens indicated strongly to demons. BIG ONES.

"Oh shit. And you two left on your own?" Dean groaned, before turning. He ran to frontdoor to shut it and used the backdoor to enter the wreckage, and straight to Impala.

"Baby we're in the hurry. Rescue mission of old man and bitch", he panted, opening the door and jumping in. Turn of keys on the lock, familiar clicking sounds, and then engine roared and Dean kicked the pedal, making clean 180* turn and drove off. He had two jerks to hunt down now.

Hours they tailed each other, but Sam and Bobby had a good headstart. At last they pulled off the mainroad to pumpy, very badly cared gravel road. Sam, who was driving had to slow down just to keep the rims attached to their car.

"This is a very bad an idea", Bobby said, sitting on passenger's seat next to him. Sam sighed. He couldn't fully disagree. Going against the new king of hell... It was very bad an idea with just two of 'em.

"We have a shot now... We gotta try", he said, giving Bobby a smile, but on the way to his face it turned to be ugly grimace, so damn nervous he was right now.

"Well, good to know that Dean'll at least kill our sorry asses if Crowley wont", Bobby said, now gazing out from the window to endless darkness soon surrounding them. They had arrived to old oak wood, and the trees were so tall that they blocked out the sky almost fully.

Nice and ominous, Sam thought, feeling his jaws tighten up.

Road to darkness seemed to be endless. But after maybe a hour and miles of driving, Sam saw a blink of a sky. Somehow it managed to warm his heart, even, when he knew where they were heading for. Stars. Sam saw stars too. He smiled a tad bit before stopping the car and laying his eyes on the village ahead. It was like ripped straight from old movies. He knew from his research that the whole town was very strongly religious and people around here were very isolated from outside world. Great. Sam hoped that they wouldn't run into any fanatic believers - even he had his limits.

There was no single light on the town, and as far as Sam saw, not life either. Well, it was almost 2 am, but that didn't fully explain it.

"Let's go", he said to Bobby, giving older man a encouraging gaze before opening the cardoor and shutting it as quietly as he could. Guns, sprays and saltsacks were on the trunk, so Sam circled the car and opened it. He picked up a flashlight.

"What should we grap with us?"  
>"Better if we take everything."<p>

And so the armed duo started approaching the town by feet through the field which was overdued by weeds and thistles, all standing dead and covered in white, grainy hoarfrost. They gave a ghostly, white glow to their destination. Bobby squinted around him, being tense as ever, as Sam at the same time stared only at the windows in houses most nearby the field, like waiting for someone to be there.

Soon enough Sam poked Bobby on the chest with his elbow and pointed at the center of the town, now being well in sight. Something was lying in the ground in slumped position, it's limbs awkwardly pointing to direction's that they weren't supposed to. Bobby just nodded at him and they paced up their steps.

Sam noticed his heart was pounding harder than after of before his I'm-missing-my-soul huntings. There was clearly a brooding atmosphere hanging upon them. And he didn't like it at all.

As they reached the verge of the town, Sam took couple prompt running steps and approached whatever was lying in the middle of the town - just to see it wasn't only one. He narrowed his brows, lips pressing tighter against each other. Sam reached the figure.

"Oh hell", he mumbled, pouting his nose.

"What is it Sam?" Bobby asked, coming right after him. Sam tilted his head, trying to analyze their finding. It was a carcass. Maybe 2 days old or so. Carcass of maybe 14-year old boy, as far as Sam thought. His leg had twisted against his back, there was pained, horrified expression frozen in his face - truth to be told, whole body was frozen strictly on the ground.

Bobby stopped next to him, same amount of disgust and saddness tootling in his face. There was more bodies as Sam's gaze groped the surroundings. At least 20 bodies, he had counted so far. Crowley or whatever roaming around the fields had been busy during the last few days.

"I'm gonna skin that bastard", Bobby muttered. Sam hadn't heard him being so shaken up in a long, long while. It made him even more pissed off by the situation.

Where should they even start?

Question was soon to be noticed useless, as something moved in the ruins of maybe town hall of so and Sam's eyes darted to the large windows on the facade. He winked at Bobby and in good position they started approaching the large building ahead of them, not knowing they we're stepping right into something they just wouldn't be able to handle.


	17. Prologue of ruin

Sam halted before the massive door, which had years ago been white. Now paint had peeled off and decayed on the stonestairs beneath their feet. He leered quickly to Bobby who had stopped right next to him and old man nodded. He gave a light with the flashlight as Sam pulled out the red spray from his bag and started painting large devil's trap on the door, crossing the doubledoors, locking in whatever was in there. When it was all done he took a deep breath. For Sam painting a flautless devil's trap too only for couple of minutes. It was a result of years and years of practise. He secured their way by salting the entrance, just in case.

He gave Bobby a quick gaze again and nodded. It was time. He raised his shotgun as he laid his hand on the doorknob, and turned it. Suprisingly, it wasn't locked. He opened it slightly. It gritted clamorously and then it was no bother to try and be inconspicuous so Sam went and kicked the door in, letting the moon lay it's pale strid of light on the entrance hall. Large tiles of checkerboard pattern was all Sam saw, rest of the hall was just endless darkness. Bobby lighted up darkest corners with the flashlight.

"Seems secure", Sam said, as he stepped over the saltline, Bobby right after him. Couple of steps in the hall...

Sam stiffened as he heard low growl just couple of feet away. Bobby's flashlight darted right away towards the voice, but there was nothing to be seen. But there was _something. _Sam could hear it breathing.

"Bobby..." he breathed, speaking as tranquilly as he ever could. He heard steps - like paws hitting on the floor, hard nails scratching the tiles. Breathing got louder, it was actually more like wet panting. Sam could feel it on his thighs now, through his jeans. Breathing was warm, like fire, and it smelled of sulfur and rotten eggs all the way up to his nose. It growled again, now more loudly and even more lowly. Sam felt every muscle in his body stiffen.

When Bobby shoot, aiming straight to that bitch circling Sam, it jumped, not to avoid the shots, but straight to Sam. Hellhound. It was a fucking hellhound. Big one. Sam grunted as he tried to keep his balance, but his shoes slided in the ground and he was knocked down. Falling down harshly and heavy beast landing on top of him knocked out his breath for a while and in a daze he shoved his shotgun sideways to beast's mouth or where he thought it was and tried to push it away with all his strenght.

"Sam!" Bobby shouted, shooting again. Hellhound didn't flinch from Sam when shots sank on it's flesh, blood bursting on Sam's face, but just gave a furious bark at Bobby. Sam got careless and when hellhound reverted it's attention to him, he was too slow. He felt the monster took deep breath, before teeth sunk deep on his shoulder. Sam's hands darted up and tried to rip animal off from him, but it was useless. It was too powerful. Bobby ran to him, trying the same. Hopeless. Hellhound bit down harder and Sam saw black dots appearing to his vision from the pain. He groaned and kept ripping it off from him, hands gripping where ever they could. Sam screamed.

In the meantime Dean had finally arrived to the verges of the town, eyes tired of driving and darkness, parking Impala next to Bobby's car. Seeing that men had already left the car, Dean sighed, voice pained with worry. He treaded off from the car, slamming the door shut, handling the flashlight on other, and shotgun on other hand.

He knew he didn't have time to make headway carefully, so he just ran across the field, almost tripping to large boulder hidden among the thistles. He moved on, cursing to himself and soon approaching the town, seeing exact the same things Sam and Bobby had seen. He frowned his face and he felt his breath jam for a while. Someone or something had really kicked it's heels up feasting up on humanbeings.

Dean walked across the town, body all stiff as his eyes constantly scouted the surroundings, looking for a possible threat. But the buildings seemed to be empty or at least emptied from living residents.

Soon enough his flashlight hit the devil's trap on the town hall's door. He recognized Sam's idiom and he felt his heart taking a flip in his chest. He ran across the small downtown and reached the building, turning the doorknob. It wasn't locked but it was firmly closed. Dean swore to himself again, standing a short while there, just staring up the walls, feeling almost helpless a split second.

He turned on his heels and leaped over the rusted handtrail and into the thicket next to stairs, to go around the house, look for a possible backdoor which old buildings like this usually had.

He already had a bad feeling enough about the whole situation, and sealed door just reinforced that feeling.

After a while of searching Dean finally found that cursed door. And luckily, it wasn't sealed off._ Stupid ass demons_, he thought as he opened it and in all silence stepped into the building, arriving in dark corridor. Strip of light coming from the flashlight licked the oddly wallpapered walls - rusty red and olive green flower patterns - and dark wooden floor. He paced forward, leaving the door open behind him.

His steps, no matter how lightly he tried to take them echoed gloomily every time his combat boots' heels hit the floor.

"Sam?" he called, brows lowering. He felt the atmosphere get heavier and heavier with each step. Soon he arrived to door, and through it Dean found himself being at the lobby. He gazed around.

"Sam!" he shouted little louder. No-one answered so he strided to middle of the large room, soon feeling something sticky under his feet. He looked down, lighting his feet - blood. Wide trails through the tiled floor, starting from couple of feet away from himself. He gasped. He crouched down and placed the flashlight between his teeth and touched the trail. It hadn't coagulated, so it was fresh. Dean felt cold chills running down his spine. He straightened and followed the trail with his light. It lead to door across the entrance hall. As he reached the door, he heard familiar voice which creeped him from head to toes.

"Come in, love."


	18. Take a run for it

**Hi ya, here's the new chapter for you all. C: And! I did a playlist for this fic, check it out from here: **

**_www. youtube .com/playlist?p=PLA9ABB0E4F8B89EAC&feature=mh_lolz (delete spaces.=  
><em>**

**Thank you.3 Reviews = Gold.**

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><p>Pulse was over 200 or so it felt for Dean as fingers, which had suddenly fell numb wrapped themselves around cold doorknob and pushed the door open.<p>

Logs ratcheted in the fireplace, and comparing to entrance hall, room was nice, warm and cousy. But Dean didn't notice it. He was cold all over, to his deepest foundations. His eyes wandered wildy around the room, which was furnitured with warm wood and heavy satin curtains blocked the moonlight coming to room through the ornated windows.

It had to be an office of some kind of commissioner or so, Dean found himself thinking. He shook his head to exile the unwanted thoughts from his head. He heard familiar growl being carried to his ears over the crackling of the burning wood. Dean's eyes widened and he turned to face the large, mellow looking, little worn out armchair placed next to fireplace.

"Fancy to join us, Dean?" low male voice, which had this odd, sassy tone that gave him the creeps asked, as hand reached over the arm of the chair and petted the thing that had caused the growling sound. Dean felt unvisible eyes piercing him from under the hand - damn, hellhound. Dean was sure it was a hellhound. His heartbeat paced more up, if even possible. He didn't like those things at all.

"Oh Dean, no need to be ill-mannered. Just join me and have a chat", voice spoke to him again. Dean knew well enough who he was dealing with.

Sam's research hadn't been pointless after all.

Something slipped between Dean's ribs and with a quick, strong tug Dean had slided through the floor, dropping his flashlight on the way and was slammed against the wall. At last Dean saw the face of the man sitting on the chair.

"And it's pollite to answer when one speaks to you", Crowley said, dark honey colored, almond shaped eyes with dark eyelashes pierced right through him, even more sharply than hellhound's. Stare came from under his lowered brows, and now seeing Dean better his lips turned to skewed, awry smile.

"What the hell did you do to Sam?" Dean shouted right away, not giving a living hell what demon possibly said to him.

"Eh, Sammy-boy? That kid got what he had coming from sneaking to my place like that. And destroyed my beutiful frontdoor with his heathened deliations", Crowley said, cold abhorrence in his voice as he glazed back and nodded. Dean's eyes followed him, and there, in the darkest corner of the office, laid two men next to each other.

"Sammy!" Dean screamed, struggling to get loose from Crowley's hold.

"Calm DOWN, Dean", Crowley said, turning to watch the fire again - little warmer smile broke down on his face. Maybe the flames reminded him of the home. Even the screaming Dean let out as he panicked was familiar. He grinned and finally let go of him. Dean stumbled on the floor and as fast as he could he ran to Sam and Bobby. He jumped straight to his knees, sliding last few inches. He gripped Sam by the shoulders and turned him.

"Little brother, you better open your eyes this instant or I'll..."

"He can't hear you, Dean", Crowley hooted to him, smile was right there to be seen through from the words.

"Shut the fuck up!" Dean yelled back to him, now shaking thoroughly. He had seen the ripped jacket and t-shirt... And ripped flesh underneath it. He was breathing more harder now. Sam was bleeding to death.

Trying to calm himself he turned to see Bobby - he wasn't much better either. Hellhound or so had bit down on his thigh and ripped the flesh all the way to his shin. Dean bit his lip and pressed his fist on his mouth. _Fucking idiots, _he thought, heart racing with his breathing. He turned to leer to Crowley - or his chair - over his shoulder, jaws tightening as he bit his teeth together so hard it hurt. This was the last thing that sorry son of a bitch ever did.

Dean stood up, laying last looks on his unconscious brother and closest-to-father-he-ever-had. He slid his hand under his jacket and from his breastpocket he pulled out the knife - only thing that been pleasant thing given from Ruby to Winchester brothers. Hellhound next to Crowley's chair flinched and let out shallow, forewarning growl. Crowley chuckled in his chair.

"We really gonna go through this, darling?" he said, pushing himself up anc circling the chair to lean to it's back, tilting his head to Dean. Hellhound took a step closer to Dean, and Crowley's eyes darted to it.

"Stay", he hissed right away.

"And I here thought I'd have to spend nice and quiet weekend hiatus here in... Utah." Demon spoke slowly, almost lazily and gazed all around the room, pushing his other hand on his pocket.

"Claiming souls - it's the end of times for us demons. Castiel... He's pissed. So I decided to pop in here, just to 'piss him off''. What could be any funnier than having religious people selling theirs souls to devil... Or me?" Crowley looked amused. His eyes narrowed and he smiled slyly to Dean. Dean puckered his lips and lowered his brows. He stood there, staying still, every muscle tense and ready for attack.

"And the bodies? Oh. Sorry son of a bitches didn't want me to have theirs. So... I smited them my own way", Crowley said, sighing, leaning more on the chair. He sighed and shook his head.

"Oh Dean, Dean, Dean. I was having such a fun times here. And then you Winchester's have to pop up here AGAIN? Can't I ever get rid of you. And didn't Castiel smite you down to the ground on that warehouse?"

Dean wanted him to shut up. Just shut up. Only demon's voice made his blood poil. And Sammy and Bobby on his feet just made it worse. He stepped closer, leaving bloody vestige behind him - he had imperceptibly stood on blood pond which had poured from his little brother's wounds. Another step...

Crowley lift his hand, and shook his inder finger rebukingly.

"Tch, tch, Dean. Calm your horses", he said, still smiling. But Dean didn't listen. He was blinded by his own rage. And when he was on rage... He threw punches.

He wanted to see black smoke stirring Crowley up from inside. Dean let out long shout, as he dashed towards demon, hellhound pouncing up from his sitting position. Animal still didn't attack, and Crowley's hand was still in the air, as Ruby's knife sank straight to his chest, between his ribs to heart. Dean's other hand gripped demon's suit's collar and just prodded the knife deeper.

Demon coughed, bending down a little, small cloud of smoke puffed out from his mouth - then he straightened his back and tapped Dean on the shoulder.

"Dumb boy. It's King of HELL these days", he said, swallowing and gripping Dean by his wrist to pull him off from himself. Knife was still neatly sticking out from his chest.

"And... I liked this suit. You hunters have really no sense of fashion at all", he said as he wrapped his fingers around he handle of the knife and with one single yanked the blade off from him.

Dean stood couple of feet away from him, jaw dropped and eyes burning with disbelief. He stared at the point where the knife had invaded demon's vessel, and then straight to demon's yellow eyes, now turning black. Crowley grinned.

"It's getting annoying", he said, before moved his finger slightly, and dropped the knife to the floor. It clanked couple of times, and as Crowley twitched his finger again, hellhound growled at Dean, getting closer now. Dean gasped. Well, now he was fucked. Big time.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus..." Dean started muttering the complicated words of latin as fast as he could, but it was too late. Hellish beast already dashed forward, and he had to beat a hasty retreat. He turned, eyes quickly gazing to Sam, before he ran for it, straight out of the room. Hellhound followed and Dean heard it approaching with each step.

"Exorsism? Really Dean?" He heard Crowley shouting after him, before the door slammed shut and complete darkness surrounded both of them, Dean and the hellhound on his heels.


	19. Unexpected

Not fucking again! Dean's head was screaming, heart was pounding out of the chest, HE'D DIE. Again. How pathetic.

He ran through the entrance hall, almost slipping in the trail of blood. He gasped and soon enough regained his balance.

He was disarmed, he was running away from a hellhound, to put it in one sentence, he was fucked.

He ran to one door, kicked it open and right as he was through, he slammed it shut, hoping it would slow the beast down. Fool's hope. Hellhound threw itself against the door, and Dean heard the wood crack and hinges squeked ominously. Dean had to halt for a second to stare the door, like he could hold it together with just his looks... No use. Another time hellhound slammed it's huge, heavy corpus against the door it cracked, and wood splinters flied through the air and animal was on the same corridor than him.

Dean gasped and his soles scraped slick wooden floor. He stumbled against the floor and ran again in complete darkness, eyes narrowing as they tried desperately to adjust. He heard hellhounds barking, how it champed it's teeth to get a taste of him. Again. Dean didn't really want to feel those teeth on his flesh ever again, not those claws scraping through his chest.

Dean wasn't sure, how long he had ran in the corridors, but the thing he knew was that he was tired. Out of breath, gasping for air as legs hurt from squirreling around. And hellhound was still on his heels. It was _playing with him. _It wanted to exhaust him and feast with him slowly.

In two turns, first to right, second to left, Dean's legs simply gave up. In the middle of a step. He slumped on the floor, landing hard, eyes immediately darting behind in the corridor. Hellhound would attack him every second possible. He pushed his hands underneath him, but they shook so badly he just fell back down.

He heard barking, now closer and closer, he even heard how it's teeth clanked together between those ghostly barks and growls. Paws beated the ground. It was too close... Dean didn't want to give up on it put somehow it seemed that he should. He pushed himself on sitting position again and up to his feet, and swayed to lean against the wall.

It felt like his lungs were burning. He held his chest, fingers so tight that knuckles and nails turned white, waiting.

One, loud bark.

And one pained squek. And then only silence.

Dean staid for a while there, waiting for a strike that never came. He was in complete silence, only darkness surrounding him. He heard only his own heated breathing echoing from the walls. Finally he straightened, legs shaking, lungs still aching, heart beating, almost vibrating inside his ribcage. He started walking back, trying to remember the routes he had ended up in there.

In one corridor, he smelt blood and sulfur again. He lifted his hand to press is on his mouth and nose to hold the awful smell away. As much as he in the dark saw, walls were splattered with blood, like someone had thrown it in there with buckets.

It looked distusting, even for him. He walked quickly past it and towards the end of the corridor.

Because he in the end had no clue where he was, it took hour or so for him to find the entrance hall. Corridors in that large building were way more labyrinthined than he had even thought.

"CROWLEY!" he yelled right away as he stepped in the entrance hall.

Moon had moved in the sky and now invaded the hall through the high windows. Blood glimmered in the pale light, looking highly contrasted against the black and white tiles.

"Crowley you son of a bitch!" he yelled, walking towards the office, hands hanging against his sides all numb, fingertips icecold. He swayed to the door, and literally kicked it in.


	20. Don't piss off

Demon had heard Dean coming before he had even started yelling. His eyes were back to that dark honey, and they widened as he heard the first door opening. Or the remains of that poor door. His heart pinned itself against his backbone as he quickly stood up from the chair, fingertips brushing the arm of it as he turned to gaze to door.

It was _unpossible. _There was no way older Winchester would have gotten away from his hellhound. Demon almost twitched as he heard Dean's almost animalistic screams echoing in the main hall. He swallowed and leered at the men lying on the corner of the room. Sam's breathing was harder and harder, and Bobby wasn't doing well either. Maybe he could do a deal with them before he'd leave...?

He shook his head. He had other things to concentrate on right now. Like murderous hunter approaching the office again. Of course Dean wouldn't be no match to him, but he had so much better things to do than fighting with scats.

"Crowley!" Crowley narrowed his eyes, moved couple of steps towards Sam's lifeless body, playing with Ruby's knife in his hands. Dean's voice sounded hoarse and choking.

And still he had a strenght to kick the thick door in. Maybe with just his will. Crowley stiffened.

"You fucking son of a bitch, let it be the last time you send HELLHOUND after me", Dean panted, eyes furiously leering at the demon. Demon forced a grin to his face, but Dean saw that he was not amused at all. Crowley took another step towards Sam, and Dean twitched from his position on the door.

"Don't you dare!" he shouted right away, taking a pained step towards him. His legs still hurt from running and stumbling on things. Crowley's eyes darted back to him.

"What ya gonna do about it, boy?" he asked silently, grinning hollowly. Dean noticed he was constantly glaring over his shoulders into the entrance hall.

"Searching for your puppy?" Dean asked, panting as he stepped into the room. Crowley's eyes narrowed and he pinched his lips together. He wanted badly know, why his hellhound didn't come when he called. But he just didn't have the balls to ask.

Dean walked to room, pushing the door close behind him - it creaked. Dean had broken the lock at least.

"It's splattered all over the corridor walls. And ceiling, too. You can go and scrape it back together", Dean said, giving Crowley a mocking smile. His mind twisted and turned the thought around - why the hell had the hellhound died? He thought and thought but couldn't come up with any reasonable explanation.

He decided to toss it off and try and save all three off them. And maybe kick Crowley in the jewels in passing. Dean circled Crowley, staring at him the whole time.

"C'mon, this is plain stupid. Let us get our sorry asses here. Or I'll have to make you", he said, nodding his head in a persuading way, opening his arms as he turned to face the demon. Crowley's eyes were ink black again, he was _pissed. _Well, what did you expect after you had just said that your pet was like a roadkill now?

There was no walking out and Dean damn sure knew that.

"You cursed Winchester brat!" demon hissed from between his teeth and lips which blood had escaped from them being pinched together to hold down his rage.

"I'll tear your skin off and leave you to languish!" Dean could tell that the demon was even more furious than him. He could see the spit when he shouted, and the vein popping in the surface of his skin on his forehead. _Bring it, _said Dean's whole essence. Corner's of demon's mouth twitched and with one swift motion of his hand ha threw Dean across the room, this time not pinding him to the wall. He wanted to have some fun.

Just silent 'ouch' was all that escaped Dean's lips as he felt that invisible hand gripping him by his ribs and slamming he across the room. He landed on his side and slided again. He growled and pushed himself right up. He was getting more than tired of being tossed of by supernatural beings all the freaking time.

He panted as he narrowed his eyes and leered at Crowley from under his brows. Demon had the knife, which wasn't even useful right know, and what did he have? Nothing. Crowley had totally disarmed him when he had thrown him on the wall for the first time.

Dean licked his lower lip quickly and lifted his jaw to regain some of his pride. He swayed lightly, and tried to circle Crowley to get to Sam. Demon's eyes followed him intensively.

"Dean, you know you three ain't getting outta here", Crowley said, corners of eyes twitching again.

"Yer little brother is as good as dead already and Bobby over there is taking his final gasps too." Dean glazed at his brother and Bobby over his shoulder, knowing that Crowley was pretty much right. Sam's breath could be heard rasping. Dean bit his lip, wanting to run to him and shake him to his senses but... He took a deep breath. He'd have to try. Somehow. He'd need to figure something out. Anything. He took another deep breath, closed his eyes and as opened them, he locked them right in Crowley's eyes.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio. Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica." Muttered words of latin broke the silence and Dean placed himself between Sam and almost bored looking demon. But no matter what Dean said, it didn't seem to take any effect to demon. Crowley smirked and with a flick of a index finger tossed Dean and knocked him over, straight to Sam's blood splattered chest. Dean tried to avoid the crash but it was unpossible.

Hit slapped Sam conscious. Man screamed in pain, but was unable to push Dean away from him, due the weakness by the bloodloss. Finally his wild, wettened eyes darted to Dean.

"D...Dean?" he gasped, blood dripping on his chin. Dean almost jumped off from him and turned to him, brushing the hair off from his face. Sam gulped down the blood and only ended up coughing.

What it was with the fact that nothing had been fine in months?

"Shut it, Sammy, I'll complain to you later. Just don't faint now. Keep still", Dean ordered, placing his hand on Sam's chest. Little brother didn't nod but Dean knew he agreed. He leered at Crowley again, who witnessed that heartbreaking family meeting.

Dean stood up, hands soaked in Sam's blood, eyes burning with fury.

"Let's end this." Crowley chuckled at his words and shook his head. He didn't think that Dean had any changes against him. And he didn't.


End file.
